


No Replacements, No Refunds

by amcw177



Series: *Heroes Not Included [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Case Fic, Con Artists, M/M, Robbery, mild violence, white collar au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-23
Updated: 2010-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amcw177/pseuds/amcw177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gokudera's career as a rather gifted thief comes to an abrupt end when special agent Hibari finally catches up with him. And if that wasn't bad enough Hibari puts him to work for the FBI. Naturally, Gokudera is less than pleased but he has an agenda of his own and therefore is forced to play along. Things start to get complicated though when the Varia show up to wreck havoc and Gokudera begins to wonder if he hasn't been too quick to judge the ever aloof agent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware - Obstruction Ahead

**Author's Note:**

> This is a **repost from Livejournal**. I'm working on moving all my old stuff from LJ into this account. I've backdated it, but I'm not sure that works with multichapter fics. In case this does show up as new in the tag: I am really sorry!
> 
> \---
> 
> Inspired by the show 'White Collar'.
> 
> **Beta:** Battling against my grammar, spelling and lack of punctuation - [kentucka](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kentucka). General hand-holding, sympathetic pats on the back and pointing out where this sucks, or where it doesn't - dicks (LJ) & [doomcake](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doomcake). Remaining mistakes are mine alone.

Silence reigned over the building. Its usual inhabitants were out, leaving their home guarded only by a pitbull called 'Zeus' and a semi-sophisticated alarm system.  
  
The alarm system hadn't presented a problem but 'Zeus', as it turned out, wore his name for a reason. He did put the fear of God in you. But even that had been taken care of and while Gokudera was still inspecting the hole in his pants Zeus was happily chewing on a raw steak that Gokudera had found in the fridge. It had been either that or his leg - the decision was easy.  
  
As soon as all obstacles had been cleared Gokudera made ready to face the final stage of his endeavour. He eyed the massive safe door and then began to rummage through the small duffel bag he'd brought. He carefully arranged his tools in the order he was going to need them in. The security system of the safe was an independent circuit and could not be disabled with the rest of the alarms. But Gokudera had cracked more difficult safes than this one so he was quite confident.  
  
He unrolled a set of blueprints and started lightly knocking on the wall surrounding the safe door until he found a spot that made a hollow sound. When he turned back to fetch the cutting wire he found Zeus lounging around on his blueprints. He was drooling on the specifications.  
  
First, Gokudera tried to shoo the stupid dog away but Zeus only blinked at him and lapped up a thin string of spit. Gokudera forced himself to remain quiet and went for the hands-on approach but the bloody mongrel weighed about a ton and woudn't budge. He even rolled over and waited for Gokudera to rub his belly.  
  
"I am so not doing that," Gokudera whispered, pushing Zeus at least far enough off the thin papers that he could read the instructions. "Get a life, you stupid mutt."  
  
Gokudera glared at the dog. It gave him the upside-down version of a ten-year-old's hurt look and whined. Gokudera could deal with a lot, really, but the psychology of dogs was not among his fields of expertise.  
  
"No!" Gokudera hissed and waved a hand in front of the dog's face. "Now go play somewhere else. In the Antarctic, for preference."  
  
He didn't have time for this (pit-)bullshit. Neither did he need the distraction. He couldn't have a noisy dog nearby when he was working on a security system that responded to sound - among other things. Gokudera sighed and with a considerable amount of disgust put his hand on the huge belly and started rubbing. In response Zeus continued to completely rumple Gokudera's valuable papers by rolling around and grumbling contentedly.  
  
"Alright," Gokudera announced after what felt like hours of patting a belly the size of Northern America, "that's enough. Now go and... I don't know, chew on the furniture or something. But for fuck's sake, leave me in peace."  
  
Zeus lazily shifted onto his side and firmly remained there, snoring like a goddamned ship's engine.  
  
Gokudera briefly thought about strangling the dog but decided that it would be best not to have a dead dog to dispose of later. At least the godawful animal was sleeping now. It was better than nothing.  
  
"Fine," Gokudera muttered and dragged his duffel bag out from underneath Zeus' immense head. Not that the dog seemed to notice anyway.  
  
Gokudera quietly cursed the dog in all languages available to him as he set to work on the panel he'd spotted earlier. He fixed the flammable wire to the panel and watched it burn through the wood with barely any noise. As expected, the hole revealed a bunch of wires and Gokudera instantly felt a lot better. Zeus seemed to remain the only complication tonight.  
  
He quickly identified the wires that required cutting or rearranging and not five minutes later he had his laptop attached to the cables and the decoding algorithms were up and running. The door gave a click and then metal creaked against oiled metal when the steel bolts slid back somewhere inside.  
  
" _Ecco fatto_." Gokudera smiled smugly and poked the snoring dog, "See? I'm unstoppable." Zeus didn't react beyond drooling onto the carpet but Gokudera couldn't care less. He was seconds away from holding a beautiful masterpiece of music history in his hands - a genuine Vuillaume violin. He'd been eyeing it ever since it had popped up on an auction list half a year ago. His fingers were twitching in anticipation when he thought about the great musicians who had played it. It was a shame to let it rot in a vault.  
  
He spun the huge wheel and stepped back to allow the door to swing open. The last few inches required a bit of help on his part but once he had squeezed past the solid door the lights in the secure room flickered to life and Gokudera gave a satisfied sigh.  
  
Only to find a dark-haired man in an exquisite suit sitting on a foldable chair in the middle of the room.  
  
"Holy fff-," Gokudera stumbled backwards. His foot got caught in the door frame and he landed butt-first on the floor outside the safe.  
  
When he was done spitting profanities at the world he scrambled up to lean on his elbows and finally dared to take another look at the man. Sadly, that didn't make him go away either.  
  
"Hibari Kyouya." Gokudera stated, not sure if he should laugh, cry or throw random furniture at the unexpected visitor.  
  
" _Special agent_  Hibari." The man corrected as he stepped out of the vault and towered over Gokudera like the proverbial sword of Damocles, "Gokudera Hayato, you are hereby arrested for breaking and entering, grand theft, forgery, identity theft and concealment of stolen goods."  
  
"What, no parking tickets?"  
  
Hibari leaned down and the smile on his face was the equivalent of a cell door falling shut, "I only mentioned the more prominent of your crimes. I'm sure the actual arraignment will be far longer."  
  
Gokudera's mind raced but he would have been fooling himself if he believed that there was still a way out of this. He let out a long, exhausted breath and slumped back. He closed his eyes in the vague hope that the man would just disappear. When Hibari hauled him up from the floor Gokudera finally gave in, "Well, fuck."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera hadn't always been a thief. He'd started out as a pickpocket and then realised that it was sometimes much less of a hassle to nick things from people's homes instead of their pockets. For one, he didn't have to deal with any pissed-off old ladies screaming bloody murder in the middle of the street.  
  
He'd spent half of his life running from his family and the other running from various national and international authorities. He was good, oh, he was  _very_  good and he would have been lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. But even the most fun job tended to dull a little if it lacked... challenge.  
  
And then Hibari Kyouya had come along. He'd first introduced his tonfa to Gokudera's face and then himself. Gokudera had only escaped because he'd still carried some of the dynamite that he'd used to blow open a sealed container. Even months after that Gokudera had kept a stick or two on his person, just to be safe.  
  
Hibari had been irritating right from the beginning. He didn't act or react like the other FBI agents. Actually, he didn't do _anything_  like other human beings would. Sometimes Gokudera wondered if he even breathed or if he just lived off the fear he induced. And if that had been Gokudera's only cause for worry he would have been well off. But Hibari turned out to be a great deal more persistent and above all  _clever_  than most agents Gokudera had run into before.  
  
Gokudera had to get ever more inventive to stay that vital step ahead. Still, after two years of pursuit - which was considerably longer than any other authority had ever hunted him without respite - Gokudera only had a handful of hideouts left that Hibari hadn't discovered yet. And the number of allies still at large had been decreasing at a shocking rate as well.  
  
But two years was a long time - enough time to do some information gathering of his own. It never hurt to know your enemy. Hibari's file read like a living nightmare for every upstanding criminal. The man was still a youngster at the Bureau but his list of arrests was already longer than Gokudera's entire arm. Strangely, so was the list of assault charges filed against him. None of the charges had ever made it in front of a judge but the fact remained. The accusers ranged from middle-aged ladies to known murderers. Hibari's sense of justice was a bit too finely tuned for others to get it.  
  
Either way; they had danced around each other for two years and it had only been a matter of time until one stepped onto the other's toes. Gokudera would have preferred it the other way around though.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
This place was a joke. Clearly, someone was trying to prank him.  
  
Gokudera had spent half a week in this prison and had already counted a total of six ways to escape. The only thing that stopped him was a suspicious-looking black limousine waiting outside the gates every day. It didn't do anything in particular and at times Gokudera was almost certain it had merely been parked there and forgotten. But every now and then a tiny yellow bird fluttered towards it and a window would open a fraction to let it inside.  
  
Gokudera groaned when he stepped away from the window in the dining hall, having just enjoyed a perfect view of the familiar black car. He didn't need three guesses to know who was inside.  
  
"Hey, octopus head!"  
  
Gokudera flinched. He resisted the urge to fling his full tray in the direction of the aggravatingly loud call.  
  
"Octopus head!"  
  
" _What?_ " Gokudera spun around, almost splattering pudding all over his neighbour in the queue. A prison guard whose name Gokudera only remembered because the dumb jock kept calling him by that infuriating nickname jogged over to him.  
  
"You've got a visitor." Sasagawa smiled at him as if he was handing over the Declaration of Independence.  
  
"Now?" Gokudera glanced at the huge clock at the other end of the hall, "Visiting hours aren't until two."  
  
Sasagawa leaned closer and whispered, "Special clearance. If you catch my drift."  
  
"No, I don't. And why are you whispering?"  
  
The queue behind Gokudera was beginning to get a little impatient. The guard shot the rest of the inmates a warning glare and the commotion died down immediately - if nothing else he had at least gained the prisoners' respect.  
  
"Come on." Sasagawa tugged Gokudera towards the exit.  
  
"Hey! What the Hell? I was about to eat that, you turf-headed numbskull!" Gokudera's tray landed on a nearby table when Sasagawa had successfully removed it from his protective grip.  
  
"Sorry," the guard gave him an apologetic look, "but I'll save some for you, okay?"  
  
He seemed particularly proud of that idea. Gokudera rolled his eyes, "Whatever makes you happy, airhead."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"You've got to be kidding me." Gokudera slid lower on his chair and let his head rest on the backrest, "What the fuck are you doing here? Come to revel in your triumph?"  
  
"Hardly." Hibari turned away from the window and finally sat down opposite him. His facial expression indicated that he liked being there about as much as Gokudera. Right now Gokudera would have rather bathed in acid than spend the next few minutes in one room with Hibari.  
  
"Then what did you come here for?" Gokudera sighed and scrambled to sit upright again. There were certain aspects of courtesy even a mortal enemy had the right to be shown. His father hadn't taught him much but that had stuck.  
  
Hibari pushed a file over the table. It was full of pictures of a bank - in several stages of robbery, apparently.  
  
"I didn't do that," Gokudera pointed at the photographs. He was only half-serious. The last time he'd done a bank job was four years ago and that hadn't gone well at all.  
  
"I know," Hibari said stoically, "it happened yesterday."  
  
If the man had any sense of humour he certainly didn't like to show it. But Gokudera suspected it had been surgically removed when the aliens had dropped him off on this planet to ensure world domination - or something along those lines anyway. Gokudera shuffled through the images until he recognised something, "Ah, that was the hostage thing that was on TV last night, wasn't it?"  
  
Hibari raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
"They've got cable in here. I hope you didn't bet on the Packers last night, by the way," Gokudera explained with a shrug.  
  
"Just look at the pictures." Hibari's patience was wearing thin.  
  
"And what?" Gokudera picked up random pages and studied them before tossing them back onto the pile, "What am I supposed to tell you? That they got away? I think you already know that."  
  
He was grating on Hibari's nerves, he could tell. Gokudera just hoped they had confiscated the agent's tonfa at the gate.  
  
"I want you to tell me how they made it out."  
  
"How the Hell should I know?" Gokudera snorted and if he hadn't been handcuffed to the damned chair he would have stuffed the pile of pictures right down Hibari's throat.  
  
"Because I believe you've worked with them before." There was the tiniest hint of a knowing smile on Hibari's face - which furthered the impulse to make him choke on something.  
  
"Worked with a lot of guys," that was a lie and they both knew it. Gokudera avoided working with others as much as possible. It minimized the risk of getting screwed over and it made dividing the take much easier. Unfortunately, there were times when joining a crew was the only way to go.   
  
Hibari selected a grainy screenshot they had pulled off a security camera and put it on top of the stack. It showed everything you would expect at a robbery: terrified hostages, huddled together in a corner and masked people with guns. Although, a second glance revealed this group of robbers to be of the more unique kind. Only one of them appeared to be carrying any firearms. The others either didn't reveal their weapons or were waving them around in front of some poor hostages who were probably pissing their pants. One of those weapons was a rather impressive sword.  
  
There was only one crew out there with that particular combination of weaponry.  
  
Gokudera nibbled at his lower lip, lost in thought. He considered his options. There was special agent Hibari, depending on his insight and probably allowed to make all kinds of concessions in exchange for useful information. And then there was certain death by tonfa - and if not that then by bare hands, that much Gokudera could be sure of.  
  
But from nothing nothing comes, right?  
  
"What's in it for me?" Gokudera leaned back. He was only half as smug as he looked. The other half was eyeing the door.  
  
"Reduced sentence and transfer to a low-level security facility." Hibari stated as if it was the only thing he could say without jumping over the table and mangling Gokudera.  
  
Gokudera refrained from breaking out into full-fledged laughter.  _'Low-level security'_  - what was that then? A kindergarten? This couldn't possibly be everything that Hibari had up his sleeve.  
  
He shook his head no, "Sorry. Can't help you."  
  
Hibari looked at him for a while and then seemed to come to a conclusion. He slowly reached into his inside pocket and produced an official-looking envelope which he dropped onto the photographs. He hesitated only the slightest bit.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"I thought you could read?"  
  
"Jackass." Gokudera unfolded the document and skimmed through it. Damn, if he'd known he was going to do so much reading today he would have brought his glasses. But he got the gist of it - even if he didn't believe it.  
  
"Are you serious?" He looked up at Hibari with wide eyes.  
  
"I'm afraid so," Hibari had obviously hoped not to have to play this specific card, "if you agree you are to be released into my custody for the duration of the case at hand. Your movements will be monitored via an electronic anklet. If you should step outside a one mile radius or leave my sight whenever we are working on the case there will be  _severe_ consequences, I assure you."  
  
That was the longest string of sentences he had ever heard Hibari say. Maybe that was why Gokudera was still stuck at 'my custody'.  
  
"Wait," Gokudera narrowed his eyes, " _your custody_? Does that mean we... I mean, do we have to... like,  _live together_?"  
  
Utter horror didn't even begin to cover it.  
  
"No," Hibari sounded disgusted, "you'll be given a place to stay. And you'll be under twenty-four hour surveillance."  
  
"Would that be the 'Peeking at you under the shower' kind of surveillance or the one where I'll have my own personal FBI guard dog?"  
  
"Depends on your behaviour," Hibari smiled but it was grim. His idea of surveillance was probably to chain Gokudera up in a cellar. "So, yes or no?"  
  
Gokudera rather liked the idea of getting some fresh air again. And he would figure out a way to rid himself of that anklet once he was out.  
  
"Just one question," Gokudera held up the still image from the security camera and smirked, "was one of the robbers really  _really_  loud?"

 

\---

_Ecco fatto._  (Ital.) - There./'Done!'


	2. Some Assembly Required

"What makes you think they're still in town?" Gokudera was watching the steel-and-glass buildings of the city rush by through the passenger window of Hibari's car. It had to be Hibari's because he couldn't remember ever seeing an FBI agent drive a brand-new Mercedes. Which provoked the question of how the hell Hibari was able to afford this. Gokudera had once tried to get his hands on Hibari's financial records in hopes of finding some dirty laundry but for some incredibly annoying reason he couldn't even so much as get the guy's bank account number.  
  
"They didn't steal any money," Hibari's eyes were fixed on the road when he answered while manoeuvring the car through the evening traffic, "which means that they still have to fence whatever they stole in order to get away. They're still here."   
  
Gokudera nodded. He hated to admit it but Hibari had a point. "So... if they didn't steal any money what  _did_  they steal then?"  
  
If his assumptions were correct then he had a pretty good idea as to what the robbers had been after. But Hibari would have to put his head in a bench vice before he told the FBI anything of the sort. So far, the only sign of trust Hibari had shown was that he hadn't made Gokudera ride in the trunk.  
  
"Back seat." Hibari gestured towards the rear of the car without so much as taking his eyes off traffic. When Gokudera shifted around in his seat he found a briefcase lying on the leather seats.  
  
Once he'd retrieved it from the back seat Gokudera started rifling through the contents. There was a shitload of files, ranging from interview protocols with what Gokudera presumed to be witnesses to documents bearing a big red 'CLASSIFIED' stamp. "Nothing on the Kennedy assasination? I'm disappointed."  
  
Hibari glared at him, "There's a safe deposit box list."  
  
Gokudera suppressed a sly smile. So he'd been right, the guys had focused solely on the safe deposit boxes. He found the corresponding document and searched through the names that each box was assigned to. No contents were listed, of course, but Gokudera knew he had a winner when he got to a box rented by someone called 'Frederik Alognov', which was really the worst alias a mafia boss's son had ever had.  
  
His real name was Frederico Vongola and his main profession was being the fledgling son of the Ninth boss of one of the most powerful mafia families in existence. Gokudera had randomly nicked the guy's wallet once. He had regretted it greatly when a few dozen mafia killers had come chasing after him. He'd sent the wallet back to 'Frederik' by mail, making sure that he was well on his way to another country by the time.  
  
"Any of the names ring a bell?" Hibari sounded alert, probably sensing that Gokudera had spotted something. The man had a goddamned sixth sense when it came to Gokudera. That was more than just a little creepy given the fact that they had never had a conversation beyond 'You're arrested.' and 'Fuck you.' before. But then again, there had to be a reason why Hibari was so freaking good at anticipating Gokudera's moves. It was just disconcerting to experience it first hand.  
  
"Maybe," Gokudera flicked through the rest of the list, "did they empty just one or did they-"  
  
He stopped in mid-sentence and stared at the page in his hands, not quite believing his eyes. There was a name he hadn't thought he would come across any time soon - Krejcik. Gokudera's heart was racing and he could barely swallow from the desperate hope that was washing over him all of a sudden. He'd begun to fear that he would  _never_  find a sign of that man.  
  
Hibari glanced over to him. "Did they  _what_?"  
  
Gokudera quickly turned the page and tried to get his breathing under control. "Did they break into any other deposit boxes as well?"  
  
Sadly, that did not have the desired effect on Hibari. "They broke into almost all of them. What was that just now?"  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"You were startled," Hibari pointed at the documents resting on Gokudera's lap, "what did you find?"  
  
"What? Oh. Nothing, really. I thought I recognised a name but it just looked similar." Gokudera was a bad actor - he wouldn't admit it but deep down he knew there was a reason why he'd always been the one to be caught after he'd had his hands in the cookie jar. That was why he worked alone and at night. He didn't need people to judge his theatrical performance when opening a vault. He didn't need people around,  _period_.  
  
A blind man with a stick would have noticed that Gokudera was lying. But to his immense surprise Hibari let it slip - for now, at least.  
  
Gokudera spent the rest of the drive fidgeting like a five-year-old in church, praying to every deity who would listen that Hibari would not start an investigation on Krejcik.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Mikael Krejcik was a feared man.  
  
He also happened to be a dead man. And therein lay Gokudera's problem. If Krejcik had still been alive Gokudera would have just gone and threatened the man into telling him where he kept  _her_  but alas the only way of knowing was to have a look at Krejcik's last will.  
  
Which Gokudera believed to be locked away in a safe deposit box on his son's name - stored in the bank that had just gotten robbed by the Dream Team of Havoc and Mass Destruction aka The Varia. Gokudera knew from personal experience that each member of that troop was crazier than the other. He'd worked one single job with them and it had fortified his belief that he was better off alone.  
  
Word on the street was that their leader, Xanxus, was the current Vongola boss's son but there was no real proof. There were those in the family who favoured him as the next heir, although Gokudera couldn't fathom why. Xanxus was a walking declaration of war to every living being and sometimes even inanimate objects as well. Having this guy at the top of the mafia was like inviting the great white shark over for dinner.  
  
But for now Xanxus couldn't do anything. His parentage was debatable and the only possibility to cement his claim to the Vongola throne was to find his birth certificate. And that was being tossed around like a lump of lava within and outside of the family.   
  
Gokudera's luck was definitely not improving.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera was still silently arguing with himself whether he should tell Hibari about Xanxus or not when the car halted in front of something that looked like Bates Motel in compact size.  
  
"Where are we?" Gokudera glanced up from the files and frowned when he saw the shabby excuse for a building. His only consolation was that the neighbouring houses were in no better condition. As a matter of fact, the entire neighbourhood appeared to be falling apart at any minute now.  
  
"Your new home." Hibari got out of the car before Gokudera could even start his tirade of objections. He scrambled out of the passenger seat as fast as he could, prepared to yell after Hibari that he would not, under no circumstances, stay in this shithole. But Hibari had already disappeared inside. He was obviously pretty anxious to get rid of Gokudera for the night.  
  
He found Hibari filling out the guest form when he came rushing in. "If you think I'll be staying here you're fucking wrong!"  
  
Gokudera pointed at the receptionist's desk that had seen one world war too many - as had the receptionist, by the looks of him.  
  
Hibari only shrugged and handed the form back to the human relict behind the counter. "I don't care where you stay. This is the place the Bureau is paying for. If you take it or not is up to you."  
  
Gokudera gaped at the dark-haired agent. " _This_  is how you treat your consultants?"  
  
Hibari shot him a warning glare which might have made Gokudera flinch just a little. "You're a criminal, nothing more. I don't care what title they give you."  
  
"Alright,  _fine_ ," Gokudera spat, "I'll find myself somewhere to stay then, fuck you very much."  
  
"Be my guest," Hibari gave another shrug and headed for the exit, not even bothering to look back, "if you can find a place in a one mile radius that will let you stay for free. Either way, I expect you at the office at eight o'clock tomorrow. Don't be late."  
  
And with that he was out of the door and back in his car quicker than Gokudera could formulate a decent insult. He was left stranded in a fifth class hotel, with twenty dollars in his pockets and a good deal of bubbling rage mainly directed at a certain FBI agent. But the sad truth was that the authorities had him exactly where they wanted him. All his accounts had been frozen and the stashes of cash he'd hidden for emergencies were impossible to get to with the FBI monitoring his every step.  
  
"Hey, you. You takin' the room or not?" The old receptionist dangled a heavy key from his arthritic finger.  
  
Gokudera scowled and clenched his fists at his sides trying not to imagine setting this place on fire. On second thought, he would rather set fire to Hibari's car. Or anything belonging to that infuriating bastard, really. But he had no choice and he was pretty damned sure Hibari knew it.  
  
"I don't suppose you've got a phone around here?" Gokudera asked, exasperated, as he snatched the key from the old man.  
  
"Nah. But there's a public phone just around the corner."  
  
"Public phone," Gokudera echoed without much enthusiasm, "great. Just great."  
  
He continued to grumble to himself as he climbed the stairs to his room until he opened the door. After that all words failed him due to overwhelming horror.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
After spending about five minutes in his room and feeling like he'd already picked up a dozen diseases just from sitting on the bed Gokudera decided to take a walk. It required climbing out of the window and onto the adjoining roof to avoid the FBI agents waiting outside but it was worth the effort for a little privacy. And while he was out he might as well look for a phone too.  
  
In this case it meant 'accidentally' bumping into a giddy young woman and inconspicuously extracting her cell phone from her purse. He might have moved up a notch in his crimes but he was still a decent pickpocket.  
  
By now, he knew the number he was punching in by heart.  
  
 _"Doctor Shamal's office. I'm afraid the Doctor isn't in, please leave a message after the-"_  
  
"Quit that shit," Gokudera growled, fishing for some cigarettes in somebody else's pockets, "it's me, Hayato."  
  
 _"Oh. Hey. I thought you were in prison?"_  
  
"I was," Gokudera fiddled with the newly acquired packet of smokes and glanced down at the anklet hidden underneath his pant leg, "technically, I still am."  
  
 _"How can you **technically**  be in prison?"_  
  
Gokudera rolled his eyes and finally found someone with a lighter in their jacket pocket, "Long story. Listen, I need to ask you a favour."  
  
 _"Does it involve pretty girls?"_  
  
"Does it... what? No, you pervert!" Gokudera had known the insufferable pseudo-doctor for longer than he could think and it still took some mental adjusting to follow his sex-driven logic.  
  
 _"Oh..."_  
  
"You gonna hear me out or not?" Gokudera balanced the cell phone between his ear and shoulder and tried to light his cigarette - which proved more difficult than anticipated.  
  
 _"Alright... Let's hear it."_  
  
"I found it." Gokudera said, the familiar flare of hope back in his chest.  
  
 _"Found what?"_  
  
"Krejcik's last will. I found it."  
  
 _"Really? I was beginning to think the man didn't even exist..."_  
  
"There's only one problem..."  
  
 _"Which would be?"_  
  
Gokudera winced. "It got stolen."  
  
Silence ensued. "Shamal? Hey, you still there?"  
  
 _"Yeah. I'm just trying to figure out how I'm supposed to help you with that."_  
  
"I know who stole it," Gokudera plopped down on the edge of a small fountain, puffing his cigarette and eyeing the crowd for any signs of feds. "I mean, I have a pretty good idea who stole it."  
  
 _"And you want me to find out if they're trying to sell it?"_  
  
"Nope, not exactly," he knew that neither Shamal nor himself would like the next part, "it was the Varia."  
  
This time the silence had a more concerned feel to it.  
  
 _"You don't meddle with those guys."_  
  
"I know," Gokudera heaved a sigh, "but what am I supposed to do? They stole pretty much everything that was in that vault and Krejcik's last will just happened to be among it. I don't think they even know what to do with it."  
  
 _"Perhaps. But still, you don't want to get involved with them. Again, that is. You do remember what happened the last time you worked with them, right?"_  
  
Gokudera did and a repeat of that was in nobody's interest. "I'm not looking to work with them, stupid. I want you to find out where they're hiding and set up a meeting."  
  
 _"You think they put up a neon sign reading 'Varia hide-out, enter here'?"_  
  
"What's that supposed to mean? You're the best fence in the area. They're bound to have something to sell after a heist like that. It shouldn't be too hard for you to pop up on their radar."  
  
Contemplative silence followed. Shamal was probably weighing his chances of survival.  
  
 _"Alright. I'll see what I can do. But Hayato?"_  
  
"Hm?"  
  
 _"Does this whole thing really warrant an involvement with the Varia? I was just thinking that maybe it's time for you to let it go."_  
  
"I am  _not_  letting it go, old man!" They had had this conversation hundreds of times and it never failed to rile him up. "I want her back and if that means meeting with the Varia, so be it. I'm not losing her again, Shamal."  
  
 _"Okay, okay. Calm down, Hayato. It was just a thought, for Christ's sake."_  
  
"Yeah, whatever." Gokudera huffed, putting out his cigarette with so much force he almost broke his fingers in the process. He briefly wondered if he should ask Shamal for some cash but that would have meant owing the man even more than he already did. Besides, he'd already noticed the black Ford parked in second row at the other end of the plaza. Painting 'FBI' in gold lettering all across the hood would have had the same effect.  
  
"Look, just find them and tell them I'll make it worth their while." Gokudera watched two men in generic suits get out of the car and approach him with the superiority of someone who knew that there was nowhere for Gokudera to run. "I gotta go. I'll call you again tomorrow."  
  
 _"Wait, Haya-"_  
  
Gokudera cut him off by snapping the cell phone shut and casually letting it slip into the water of the fountain.  
  
"Okay," Gokudera presented the two agents with an annoyed glare, "what the fuck did I do now? Am I not even allowed to have a quiet smoke within my one mile radius?"  
  
"We're just here to see you home safely." One of the interchangeable duo stated.  
  
"Wow," Gokudera said in a mocking tone when he got up, "I feel so nurtured."  
  
"Please just follow us back to your hotel." The one with the sunglasses dangling from his jacket pocket gestured in the general direction of the abomination called 'hotel'.  
  
"Fine," Gokudera shoved the packet of cigarettes at the man, "been trying to quit anyway."  
  
The agent gave him a perplexed look but nodded towards his colleague to follow Gokudera. He would have been even more confused if he'd realised that his sunglasses were missing.


	3. All Rights Reserved

"You're late."  
  
Gokudera blinked at Hibari from behind his - correction:  _somebody's_  - sunglasses and yawned. "For your information, I got next to no sleep last night because a) the place you dumped me in is worse than Hell and b) I swear there were dozens of mutated monster rats copulating behind the walls to make even  _more_  mutated monster rodents."  
  
Hibari just looked at him as if he'd recited the weather forecast. "That does not justify being late. We also have a dress code here. We wear a suit at the office."  
  
He mustered Gokudera, who inspected his own clothing and scowled. "These happen to be the only clothes I've got right now. They don't exactly ship your entire wardrobe to prison, you know."  
  
"Then buy a suit." Hibari shifted some papers on his desk and Gokudera couldn't help but notice how neat and organised everything looked. Perhaps he tonfa'd all the office appliances into submission.  
  
"With what money, pray tell?"  
  
"The Bureau pays you five hundred Dollars for your services." Hibari stated and he was right but there was a bit of a problem.  
  
"Money that I haven't gotten yet, smartass." Gokudera grumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.  
  
Hibari seemed to hesitate for a moment and then reached into his inside pocket. He produced a smooth leather wallet and fished out a fifty Dollar bill which he pushed over the table without a single word.  
  
"What's that?" Gokudera stared at the banknote as if expecting it to jump up and start tap-dancing.  
  
"Fifty Dollars." Hibari tucked the wallet away and went for his coat. "I thought you were familiar with our monetary system."  
  
Gokudera clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying anything he might regret - not that there was much he could say that was worse than anything he'd already said. "I meant, what the Hell is this supposed to be  _for_?"  
  
Hibari put on his coat and Gokudera caught a flash of a pretty famous label starting with 'A'. Mercedes, Armani coat - Gokudera was beginning to wonder if Hibari didn't simply  _own_  the FBI.  
  
"To buy a suit." Hibari explained while ushering him out of his office.  
  
Gokudera grabbed the banknote and hurried to follow Hibari to the elevators. "Wait... does that mean that  _you_  are buying _me_  a new suit? What's going on? Is the world about to end?"  
  
Hibari stopped and spun around, entirely too close for Gokudera to avoid bumping into him. "No. I am merely giving you an advance payment so you can buy  _yourself_  a new suit. I expect it back. With interest."  
  
While Gokudera was busy impersonating a fish out of water Hibari reached for the sunglasses and pulled them off his nose. He dropped them onto a desk. When the startled agent looked up Gokudera recognised him as one of his guard dogs from the previous night. They stared at each other in varying states of confusion until Gokudera noticed that Hibari was already gone.  
  
Gokudera had to run to catch up with Hibari. "Where are we going anyway?"  
  
Hibari stepped into the elevator. "There was a bank robbery, remember? We're going to have a look at the crime scene."  
  
"Fun times, huh?" Gokudera snorted when he joined his involuntary keeper - who pressed the button for the ground floor as if it had personally insulted him.  
  
"I doubt it."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
'Fun times' obviously meant that Gokudera was forced to wait in front of the vault while Hibari was imposing his impressive presence upon the bank manager. For a two-days-old crime scene there was still a lot of bustle.  
  
"Any ideas as to how they escaped?" Hibari growled through the open steel door.  
  
Gokudera peeked past it. "You know, this would be so much easier if I were allowed  _inside_  the vault?"  
  
"You're a convicted felon. I cannot jeopardise anything valuable in here."  
  
"Are you fucking serious?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Gokudera leaned back and tried to wrap his mind around this screwed-up version of consultancy. "How on earth am I supposed to help you if I can't even step inside the vault? Besides, I wouldn't be able to get anything past a bunch of FBI agents anyway, would I? Plus, there's always you."  
  
He wasn't entirely sure what he wanted to imply with that. It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Hibari was tough to figure out. He was a challenge and an obstacle but in a strange way he also felt unnervingly familiar. He was irritating and annoying and creepy and a general pain in the arse but whenever Gokudera left his thoughts unguarded he found himself admiring Hibari's wits, his seemingly effortless way of thinking like a bad guy while staying just this side of good.  
  
"Alright," Hibari suddenly announced after some hushed words with the bank manager, "you can come in."  
  
"So that's what a vault looks like," Gokudera smirked when he stepped over the steel frame, "neat."  
  
Hibari failed to warrant his sarcastic remark with an answer. "Well? You're inside. Any thoughts?"  
  
"Geez, let me take a look around first, okay?" Gokudera shook his head and shot Hibari a dispraising look. He walked around the vault in lazy circles, examining the walls, the damaged deposit boxes, the steel bolts of the door - but it was just for show. He'd already spotted the robbers' exit. It was almost impossible to find - except if you'd seen it before. It was one of the Varia's specialities, after all.  
  
Hibari blocked his way, glowering at him, "Enough with the stroll. Where's their exit?"  
  
Gokudera smiled calmly and enjoyed the view. "You're standing on it."  
  
Hibari's eyes narrowed as if he suspected a terrible joke at his own expense.  
  
"No, really," Gokudera's grin broadened at the sight of a slightly bewildered Hibari, "you're standing right on top of it. Allow me to demonstrate."  
  
He sauntered out of the vault and quickly detected what he needed.  
  
" _Promiňte_ ," Gokudera gave the cleaning lady his most charming smile, "may I borrow this for a moment?"  
  
He pointed at the bucket of water she'd prepared. She looked at him as if he'd just asked her for her green card but eventually beamed at him and nodded her head.  
  
" _Děkuji_." He heaved the bucket off the ground and carried it back to the vault where Hibari met him with a quizzical look on his face.  
  
"What was that?" Hibari asked, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Czech. Heard her talk on the phone when we came in. People tend to be a lot easier to deal with if you talk to them in a way they can understand. You should try it. Now watch," Gokudera emptied the bucket in one fell swoop, causing the bank manager to give a high-pitched shriek.  
  
"What are you doing?" The manager flailed, "we just had it cleaned this morning!"  
  
" _Shut up._ " They shushed the man in unison before looking at each other in vague discomfort.  
  
"What are you trying to prove? That you're a terrible cleaning lady?" Hibari crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited.  
  
"Watch, infidel." Gokudera grimaced and gestured towards a patch of tiles. The water was beginning to seep through some microscopic cracks around them.  
  
Hibari's eyes widened almost unnoticeably, "A trap door?"  
  
"Not really," Gokudera tapped his foot. It sounded as if there was nothing underneath but solid earth. "They cut out the tiles, climb through and then put them back together from below. Which is a pretty fucking complicated job, by the way. And then they put up poles to hold it in place.  
  
"It's a bit like magic, I suppose," he grinned as he watched Hibari circle the indicated spot like a cat sensing danger, "you won't find it until you know it's there."  
  
"That's nonsense," Hibari crouched down and ran his fingers along the edges where the water was disappearing, "if you already know it's there you wouldn't have a problem finding it in the first place."  
  
Gokudera sighed and leaned down. "Your mommy never read you children's books, did she?"  
  
"My mother is none of your concern." Hibari motioned for one of his agents-turned-personal-slaves. "Get a sledgehammer."  
  
"What's underneath this floor?" He addressed the bank manager, who could only shrug and sink deeper into the nightmare of having a couple of FBI agents ruin his vault. Hibari growled at the lack of response and turned to Gokudera for an answer.  
  
"A tunnel, probably. Or an abandoned sewer," Gokudera made a gesture that meant to encompass the entire area, "the city's full of them. There's a whole network of long-forgotten tunnels, old air ducts, bunkers and hallways down there. We're basically talking about a city on top of a city here."  
  
"How did you know there was one under here as well?"  
  
Gokudera nonchalantly leaned against the wall of deposit boxes. "I didn't. But as you so brilliantly ascertained, I've worked with those guys before. It's their thing. And it's really not that hard to get a hold of these old blueprints."  
  
"So you do know who we're looking for. You were withholding information. I should bite you dead for that alone." Hibari stepped closer and Gokudera tried hard to appear unaffected. But the truth was that Hibari was good at using his appearance as a threat. Gokudera had no idea how he managed it, when normally Hibari didn't exactly seem like someone who could ram somebody else's head through a wall, but once he wanted you cowering in fear he suddenly seemed larger than life. He also smelled distractingly nice.  
  
There was no point in hiding the facts anymore. "Okay, yes. I admit it. I know who these guys are."  
  
"Can you identify them?"  
  
"Probably." Gokudera thought of Squalo's rather distinctive hairdo. "Most definitely."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"After you, Alice." Gokudera peered into the black abyss beneath the floor of the vault.  
  
"Please," Hibari presented him with this unsettling kind of smile that made Gokudera think of polished steel and hospitals, "after  _you_. I like to keep you where I can see you."  
  
"You just want to stare at my butt, admit it."  
  
"Get on with it or I'll kick you down that hole."  
  
"Alright, alright," Gokudera gave in and scrambled around to lower himself down the gap in the tiles, "grow a sense of humour, goddammit."  
  
"I will," Hibari smirked down at him, "once your jokes are actually funny."  
  
"I've said it before but I will gladly repeat myself: Fuck you."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera hadn't lied about the labyrinth beneath the city. But fortunately, the Varia had left a trail that would have had Godzilla turn bright green with envy.  
  
"What's that?" Hibari illuminated something silver and cobweb-like with his torchlight.  
  
Gokudera briefly glanced at it, "Hair."  
  
Hibari wrinkled his nose and wiggled his hand to get rid of the mess of strands. It was actually kind of comical - the first even remotely human behaviour Gokudera had witnessed on him since they had met. If Gokudera had been completely delusional he would have almost called it cute.  
  
They ventured onwards and came across several more clues indicating that the Varia had passed through. There was a knife stuck in a rusty warning sign, a shattered bottle of Jack Daniels that couldn't have been there for longer than a couple days, and a few stray documents here and there.  
  
"Hey, that's a Civil War bond from 1862," Gokudera picked up a transparent envelope, "that's gotta be worth a-"  
  
"Give it to me." Hibari held out his hand.  
  
"What happened to 'Finders, keepers'?"  
  
" _Give it to me._ "  
  
"Fine," Gokudera shoved it at Hibari and stalked past the agent, "I can make my own anyway."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"Do you hear that?" Hibari stopped, listening into the dark ahead of them.  
  
Gokudera nodded. "The subway. Can't be too far from here."  
  
"Maybe they got tired of walking and took the subway?" Hibari's little smile appeared oddly creepy in the stark light of Gokudera's torchlight.  
  
"Was that a joke?" Gokudera mocked as they headed off towards the rumbling noise. "That was a joke, right? Wow. Remind me to mark this day in my calendar."  
  
"I am just as good a comedian as you are." Hibari looked back over his shoulder and smirked.  
  
"You know, it  _sounds_  like a compliment but I'm not sure it is one." Gokudera made a face and picked up the pace in order to keep up with Hibari.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"Are we late for anything or why are we suddenly training for the New York marathon?" Gokudera was trying not to fall off the narrow ledge and get fried on the tracks. He had to yell over the sound of the subway trains thundering past.  
  
Hibari was already way up ahead, apparently completely unperturbed by the gushes of wind and noise. He looked starkly out of place in the dirty, semi-dark subway tunnel with his pristine suit, his bold strides and his ridiculously taut posture - like a model on a poorly chosen catwalk. Only, Gokudera had never seen a model run like that.  
  
"Hey, asshole! Wait up!" Gokudera grabbled for the sad excuse of a railing and moved towards the light from the station as fast as he dared given the lack of space.  
  
Hibari, it seemed, didn't have such troubles. He'd already reached the small set of stairs leading onto the platform when Gokudera was still busy mimicking a flounder.  
  
Four trains later Gokudera finally stomped up the steps, "Thanks for waiting, dickhead."  
  
Hibari stood above him with his hands in his pockets and generally looked like a solid rock in a sea of bustling commuters. "I  _am_  waiting."  
  
Gokudera bit back a snide remark and instead concentrated on dusting off his clothes. Compared to the scarce emergency lighting in the tunnel the station seemed awfully bright. It made Hibari stand out even more, all sharp edges and angles and precision. Gokudera figured he looked like a homeless person next to the agent.  
  
"Great," Gokudera glanced around at the masses of people buzzing around the platform like the proverbial bees, "they could have gone everywhere from here."  
  
Hibari eyed the crowds spilling onto the platform like a hawk trying to spot a mouse in the thicket. Gokudera had to admit - it wasn't a bad escape route. If timed correctly the Varia could have easily mingled with the passengers exiting the trains.  
  
"So," Gokudera mused, "if we assume that they left the bank at around 5.30... twenty minutes to restore the hole in the vault, fifteen minutes to reach the station... that would put them here between 6 and 7pm."  
  
"Rush hour." Hibari scowled as if the word itself had just insulted his mother.  
  
"Exactly." Gokudera sighed and slumped against the wall in defeat. He felt weird. He was slightly irritated at the fact that even if he told Hibari everything they wouldn't be able to determine where the Varia had gone from here. He shouldn't have been angry because helping the FBI agent from Hell hadn't been his primary goal in the first place but somehow Gokudera felt... unaccomplished.  
  
"What?" He asked when he found Hibari staring intently at something above Gokudera's head. He followed Hibari's gaze and saw a security camera hanging from the ceiling, "You think they got caught on camera?"  
  
It was certainly possible. Sure, the cameras at public transport stations had more blind spots than Swiss cheese had holes in it but making use of them would have meant running across the hallways in zig-zag patterns. That would have drawn way too much attention than just biting the bullet and walking with the flow of the crowd. Apart from that, the Varia certainly wouldn't have cared about being filmed anymore at this point. After all, nobody could tell that they were in any way linked to the robbery, right?  
  
Meanwhile, Hibari was already on the phone giving instructions to one of his subordinates. Gokudera recognised the name he used - 'Tetsu'. The man seemed to be Hibari's number one minion. As far as Gokudera could tell the guy was quite okay but he appeared to be on call for Hibari 24/7. Gokudera also suspected he did Hibari's laundry.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"What the fuck is all of this?" Gokudera jumped when Hibari appeared next to him and dumped several external hard drives on the table.  
  
"Video footage from all cameras at the station from 6 to 7.30 on Tuesday night."  
  
Gokudera gave his personal pet-agent a blank look, "And what do you expect me to do with this?"  
  
"Look through it and see if you spot them anywhere."  
  
"I...  _what?_ " Gokudera huffed and picked up one of the drives, waving it under Hibari's nose. "That's dozens of hours of video! You can't expect me to go through  _all of it_! That'll take me weeks!"  
  
Hibari's expression remained stone-cold. "Technically, it will only take you two days and fourteen hours. If you don't sleep."  
  
Gokudera snorted, "I'm not like you."  
  
"I know," Hibari shrugged and turned around to leave, "that's why I've rescheduled all meetings. You'll have the conference room all to yourself for the next three days. Have a good night."  
  
Gokudera seriously considered throwing the hard drive at Hibari's retreating back. "I am demanding better accommodation for this, just so you know!  _Bastardo_!"  
  
"I hear the couch in the lounge is very comfortable," Hibari had the guts to smile at him while pushing the glass door open with his shoulder. "You're the only one who knows what they look like. I suggest you get to work."  
  
Gokudera didn't answer - there were too many insults swirling around his head. It was too hard to choose just one. So instead he stood in the hallway with an external HD in his hand and murderous thoughts on his mind.  
  
"If I brick him to death with this, does it count as a work accident?" Gokudera weighed the metallic casing in his hand.  
  
"I don't think so," Kusakabe said with a touch of empathy. He moved to stand next to Gokudera, equally staring at the elevator doors that had just closed behind Hibari. His arms were laden with files to the point where he had to keep them in place with his chin.  
  
"Damn," Gokudera glanced at Hibari's top-minion, "working overtime, are we?"  
  
"There is no overtime, only work that isn't done yet." Kusakabe said in a tone that implied he actually believed it.  
  
Gokudera gave him a disbelieving look. "If they put it in your work contract like this you should quit."  
  
Kusakabe smiled. "Even if - I wouldn't want to. I like this job."  
  
"You  _like_  working with... with," Gokudera searched for an acceptable swear word, failed, and gestured vaguely at the elevator, " _that_?"  
  
"He's a complex character, I'll admit that," Kusakabe shrugged, catching some tumbling files with a jerk of his elbow, "but he's brilliant. You get used to it after a while."  
  
Gokudera doubted that there was a 'while' in any lifetime that was long enough for him to get used to Hibari.  
  
"He likes you, you know?" Kusakabe suddenly said, almost as if he couldn't understand why Gokudera hadn't noticed it yet.  
  
Gokudera gave a bitter laugh, shaking the hard drive that was still in his hand. "Is this how he usually treats people that he likes?"  
  
"He didn't handcuff you to the conference table, did he?"  
  
"If that's the only sign of affection he's capable of I hope he hates your guts. For your own sake." Gokudera shook his head and sighed. He patted Kusakabe on the shoulder and headed back to the conference room. Why the agent was softly laughing when walking away was beyond him. He didn't find the prospect of having to sit through hours and hours of videos all that amusing.

 

\---

 _Promiňte_  (Czech) - Excuse me./Pardon me.  
 _Děkuji_  (Czech) - Thank you.


	4. Detour

"Fucking non-smokers office," Gokudera mumbled around his cigarette as he stepped out of the FBI building and started searching the late-night crowd for someone with a conveniently unguarded cell phone. He found a young business man running to catch the bus halting just around the corner. One step forward at the right second, a half-arsed apology and one quick reach into the man's pocket later Gokudera was the owner of a new cell phone.  
  
He waited until the guy had disappeared and settled down on one of the stone benches in front of the building, lighting the cigarette he'd scrounged from one of the cleaning personnel. He dialled Shamal's number and waited.  
  
 _"Doctor Shamal's office. The doctor isn't in at the m-"_  
  
"I told you to knock it off," Gokudera grumbled, "it was never funny to begin with."  
  
 _"It's not supposed to be funny, Hayato. It's a precautionary measure. You never know who's calling."_  
  
"Whatever. You got something for me?"  
  
 _"Unfortunately, yes. You sure you wanna go ahead with this?"_  
  
"Yes." Gokudera ground out. He was getting tired of explaining his motives over and over again. He refused to believe that he was 'chasing ghosts', as Shamal put it.  
  
 _"Okay. It's your funeral. I don't know where they're hiding but I've managed to set up a meeting. You know the old storage houses down by the docks?"_  
  
Gokudera nodded. "Sure."  
  
 _"Be there at 11pm, Tuesday night."_  
  
"There's dozens of abandoned warehouses down there. Which one are we talking about?"  
  
 _"They didn't say. I'm guessing they're gonna pick you up?"_  
  
"Awesome," Gokudera scowled, letting the smoke form jittery patterns in the air in front of him, "I can't wait. I've never been kidnapped by a bunch of psychos before."  
  
 _"Hey, that's all I could get you. If you're unhappy about the conditions go call them yourself."_  
  
"Alright, alright. Chill, old man." He sighed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He'd spent the last three hours going through endless variations of the same scene over and over again and he wasn't even half-way through the entire footage yet. Frankly, he still hadn't spotted any familiar faces.  
  
 _"What about your little ankle accessory? Isn't that gonna be a problem?"_  
  
"What?" Gokudera perked up his ears. "How do you know about that? I never told you."  
  
 _"Word travels fast, Hayato. And I have my own sources of information."_  
  
"Shit. My reputation's ruined," Gokudera whined, sending a few choice curses in Hibari's general direction.  
  
 _"Well, I told you the Vuillaume was a bad idea. But you never listen."_  
  
"Yeah, yeah, we've been over this a hundred times. I get it."  
  
 _"Apparently, you don't."_  
  
"Listen, you old bastard, I won't get lectured by the likes of you," Gokudera hissed, "you've got your own record of mis- Hello? Shamal?  _Hello?_ "  
  
But he was already talking to himself. "Asshole!" He screamed at the phone before slamming it against the nearest wall.  
  
"One of these days I'm gonna stick a piece of dynamite up his arse and watch him fly off to the moon." Gokudera put out his cigarette and stalked back into the FBI headquarters, hands shoved deep into his pockets and fuming like a charcoal factory.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
That was odd - Gokudera didn't remember falling asleep. Or draping a scratchy blanket over himself, for that matter. When he detached his cheek from the glass table he'd been using as a pillow he found the office buzzing with life. He checked his watch and saw that it was already way past 9am.  
  
"Oh fuck!" He jumped up and hastily started gathering the laptop and his various notes. He was almost out of the door when he realised two things: One, it was past 9 o'clock in the morning and he hadn't gotten a steel-enforced wake-up call yet. And two, he was dragging a blanket along that hadn't been there last night. Somebody had obviously discovered him asleep in the conference room and had put it over him.  
  
He stared at the piece of cloth with narrowed eyes but eventually shrugged it off. Kusakabe had probably taken pity on him and tried to make him more comfortable. The guy had his heart in the right place, after all.  
  
He peered over the stack of papers and technical equipment in his arms and located Hibari's second-in-command at his desk.  
  
"Here," Gokudera blindly dropped the blanket onto Kusakabe's lap, balancing the laptop on a highly unstable heap of documents, "I don't know where to put it. Thanks, man."  
  
Kusakabe appeared confused. "What is this?"  
  
"Didn't you tuck me in with it last night?" Gokudera twisted to get a better look at the man.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Kusakabe shook his head but began to properly fold up the blanket, "I went home around 10pm last night. I came in to say good night, don't you remember?"  
  
Gokudera blinked dumbly at the agent, "And you didn't come back to tuck me in, I suppose?"  
  
"Sorry, but no."  
  
Gokudera swallowed and willed himself not to panic. So, somebody had stopped by in the middle of the night, had encountered him sleeping and could have done God knew what to him but instead had simply wrapped him up in a blanket? Unlikely. Something else was going on here and Gokudera didn't like the fact that he had no idea what it was. Besides, the thought of someone being able to sneak up on him was highly alarming.  
  
"You wouldn't happen to know if anyone else came by after midnight, would you?" Gokudera was holding on to his last hope that it had been one of the few girls in the department who still had some social fibres left in their beings.  
  
Kusakabe only gave a helpless shrug. "If anybody was here that late at night I wouldn't know about it."  
  
"I... uh... okay. That's weird." Gokudera stammered and barely avoided slamming into another agent when he spun around to head for Hibari's office.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
He ended up explaining his findings to about a dozen agents. While he should have been proud to have their full attention he was feeling rather uncomfortable in a room full of people who dared him to bolt so they could take credit for catching him again. And all the time Gokudera's eyes kept darting to Hibari, who had taken a seat at the far side of the long table, observing Gokudera like an art critic trying to figure out if the painting he was looking at was a fake.  
  
That was easily the most unnerving part.  
  
"And that's Bel," Gokudera pointed at an enhanced fraction of a screenshot, projected onto the blank wall behind him, "nasty little fucker. Loves knives. He thinks he's royalty or some shit but I think he's just being a prat. Anyway, if you ever meet him keep a close eye on his hands. If you don't see them it's usually too late."  
  
The crowd of FBI agents was nodding and scribbling away in their little notebooks. Only Hibari continued to rob Gokudera of his last nerve with his unwavering stare.  
  
"And last but not least, Mammon," Gokudera opened the corresponding file, "if you ask me about his peculiar name I will kill you. He's the one who came up with their trademark exit strategy. He likes to fuck with your perception, so be careful. Never take anything for granted with this guy."  
  
"He's wearing a hood over his head," a young woman pointed out, "how are we supposed to recognise him from that picture alone?"  
  
Gokudera grinned. "That's easy. He's always wearing that hood. I think it's glued to his skull or something..."  
  
He swore there was the flicker of a smile on Hibari's face but it was gone faster than Gokudera could blink. It might have been his mind playing tricks on him. While Kusakabe had elaborated on their mission earlier Gokudera had made his rounds to discreetly inquire if anybody had gone back to the office last night. He got nothing.  
  
And that left Hibari - which was stupid and absurd and completely out of the question. So much out of the question, in fact, that Gokudera stormed into Hibari's office after the meeting, stood up to his full height and blurted out, "You came back to the office last night, didn't you?"  
  
The pen in Hibari's hand made an awkward turn at the end of a word but other than that the agent showed no sign of unease. "Why would I do that?"  
  
"How the Hell should I know? I'm not you."  
  
"And I'm sure that's a good thing." Hibari carefully placed the pen onto the page, making it line up perfectly parallel to the edges, and looked up at him. "Why are you so concerned with my after-work whereabouts anyway?"  
  
"Because-," Gokudera broke off, standing there like an inflated blowfish on two legs. Because  _what_? Because he thought Hibari had done something  _nice_? Shocking and unheard-of, sure, but not exactly a matter of national security. Maybe because he felt a little bit lightheaded when he entertained the idea of Hibari actually caring for him. And perhaps because it was absolutely preposterous since Hibari was doing his best to make Gokudera's life miserable.  
  
" _Because_ ," Gokudera caved and continued with a lot less vigour than he had initially intended, "whoever was in here could have stolen vital information?"  
  
It was not a very convincing substitute for his original suspicion. And above all it was certainly not supposed to be a question but that was what was hanging in the air between them now. Hibari raised an eyebrow and didn't say anything, letting Gokudera rot in the metaphorical hole he'd dug for himself.  
  
"I... uhm...," Gokudera ran his hand through his hair and silently cursed himself for not just leaving it be, "I just thought I should mention it."  
  
"Noted," Hibari went back to writing comments on the report before him, probably some pointed remarks about spelling and punctuation. He imagined Hibari to be anal like that.  
  
As the silence threatened to stretch on into infinity Gokudera suspected that it was Hibari's unique way of telling him that this conversation was over.  
  
"Okay," he announced, "glad we talked about that. Anything else you don't want to tell me?"  
  
"I notice you're still not wearing a suit," Hibari provided, his attention strictly directed at the papers on his desk. Well, that was not what Gokudera had been aiming at. But it did give him a perfect excuse to get out of this place and take care of some things.  
  
"Right." Gokudera nodded sternly. At this point he was taking whatever he could get.  
  
"You will be back here in an hour," Hibari added when Gokudera turned to leave.  
  
"Sure thing, Gunnery Sergeant Hartman." He did a mocking salute.  
  
"I am not a Sergeant." Hibari growled, furiously scrawling away on his papers.  
  
Gokudera's shoulders drooped, "It was a joke, you humourless son of a-"  
  
Hibari looked up and the glare he bestowed upon Gokudera was probably on the no-fly list all on its own.  
  
"Whatever. Forget it." Gokudera waved a hand and sighed. It never occurred to him that Hibari hadn't even asked who the fuck Sergeant Hartman  _was_.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Of course, Gokudera did not go to buy a suit. He could easily just fake a delivery form and have all the suits in the world sent to him. No, what he really wanted right now was to have a look at last night's camera feeds from the conference room.


	5. Caution - Low Clearance

So, Gokudera was a bad actor. That didn't mean he couldn't be scary as fuck when enraged. And he could fake 'enraged' pretty darned well, even to the point where he actually  _was_  furious. And people tended to tread carefully around someone who might do something that could tarnish their record. Especially, if said person pretended to be a superior sent to do a task he absolutely didn't want to do.  
  
"Don't ask stupid questions, man!" Gokudera yelled, wildly gesturing at the monitors lining almost the entire wall. "Just pull up the fucking video!"  
  
"But how does the theft of a couple of office utensils justify-"  
  
Gokudera leaned down and rested his hands firmly on either side of the man's chair, practicing his best glare. "Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?"  
  
"N-no, Sir," the guy squirmed, already fumbling with the keyboard, "just g-give me a second, Sir."  
  
"Good man," Gokudera straightened up, trying not to gloat about his performance, "go and get yourself a coffee and some donuts. Or whatever you guys like to eat."  
  
"But I can't leave you h-"  
  
"You wanna get out of this basement and be an actual agent some day?"  
  
The man's face lit up with hope. "Of course, Sir."  
  
"Then get the Hell out of my way!" Gokudera all but rolled him out of the room on his chair.  
  
"Yessirsorrysir!" It was one single string of syllables as the guy stumbled out the door, shooting Gokudera a terrified look over his shoulder.  
  
Gokudera smiled triumphantly and slid into the empty chair. He started fast forwarding through the requested video files.  
  
He hadn't really thought about what to expect - other than being proven right, of course - but somehow what he saw was a bit more than he'd bargained for. In a disturbingly pleasant way.  
  
The screen displayed a steady image of Gokudera halfway sprawled across the conference table and peacefully snoring away. The file showed that it was 1:35 in the morning when the door opened and Hibari stepped in, pausing for a moment and then slowly circling Gokudera's sleeping form.  
  
Gokudera wriggled about uncomfortably in his seat as he watched the ongoings on the screen. He didn't know why he was so nervous about seeing Hibari there - it was no surprise after all. But somehow the idea of Hibari regarding him while he wasn't aware of it was unsettling. Not unsettling as in being observed by a potential predator - which it should have been, actually - but more in a 'Oh my God, I hope my hair isn't sticking out at odd angles' kind of way.   
  
Meanwhile, the Hibari on the monitor had sat down at the opposite side of the table and was looking at several printouts that lay scattered all over the table. Gokudera couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed the bastard at that point. But then again, Hibari was like a freaking ninja when he wanted to.  
  
Hibari put the pages back where they belonged and then leaned back in the chair, studying Gokudera some more. Now, _that_  was creepy. Gokudera was even beginning to wonder if he had something on his face but the angle of the camera was too steep to see.  
  
After a while the dark-haired agent got up and left the room, only to return several minutes later with the familiar blanket in his hands. He put it around Gokudera's shoulders, his hands lingering just a tad too long to be completely accidental.  
  
Gokudera stopped the video there. His head felt like a bee hive, whirring with thoughts that were way too absurd to entertain. Maybe he was looking at this the wrong way and interpreting things into Hibari's actions that weren't there. Perhaps he just felt responsible for Gokudera because it was his job.  
  
Alright, not even Gokudera believed that. Hibari's task was to keep him in line and make sure that he didn't get any ideas - that certainly didn't include tucking him in and allowing him to sleep at the office. And what was with the constant staring? It was as if Hibari was trying to determine something, like finding flaws in a freshly painted wall. Although he couldn't say if Hibari tried to find flaws in Gokudera or in himself.  
  
Whichever it was, Gokudera couldn't just leave it alone. He'd always been bad at letting things go and this new development was already giving him headaches. He had no idea how to feel about any of this but these  _thoughts_  kept hanging around his mind like damned cobwebs - nothing tangible, all eerie and loose but bloody annoying. He clearly needed to watch Hibari more closely from now on.  
  
And he would start right after getting this suit issue off the table and acquiring some new accommodation - preferably a little closer to the docks.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Bureaucracy was a wonderful thing - if you knew how to use it. It was even more magnificent when it came with accountants who couldn't remember their passwords. Hiding a post-it under a wireless keyboard was not very subtle in Gokudera's opinion. He had enough experience with computer systems to know that the only real security threat were the people working with them.  
  
All Gokudera needed to do was to type in the name of a different hotel in his allowance sheet; a stamp, a faked signature and voilà - time to call the movers.  
  
That left him fifteen minutes to put Hibari's fifty bucks to some good use.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"That is  _not_  a fifty dollars suit." Hibari mustered him, eyes narrowed dangerously.  
  
Gokudera smoothed out the lapels of his suit jacket and confirmed Hibari's suspicion with a sly smile, "That's right. In fact, it’s a 254 dollars suit."  
  
"I gave you fifty dollars," Hibari looked as if he was  _this_  close to frisking Gokudera for any stolen VISA cards.  
  
"You did," Gokudera fished Hibari's banknote from his pocket and dropped it onto the desk, "here's your money back. Oh, and-"  
  
He flipped a fifty cent coin into Hibari's lap, "-plus interest, of course."  
  
Hibari stared at the coin resting on his thigh as if it was a Chihuahua daring to pee on his pants. It was priceless.  
  
"Where did you get the money to buy such a suit?" It was phrased as a question but Hibari's expression strongly suggested it was simply a warning in disguise.  _Careful what you say now or you'll be back in jail before you know it._  
  
"Let's just say I won a bet." Gokudera casually slid his hands into his pockets and grinned. Of course, he neglected to mention that he'd gotten the suit - and a dozen more, for that matter - at the store just around the corner. It was funny what kind of bullshit people were ready to believe if it was a computer screen telling them. That, and a pissed-off assistant screaming at the top of his lungs. He refrained from pointing out how helpful everyone had been. They hadn't had that many suits ready but they had offered half of the order at half the price as compensation. FedEx delivery included.  
  
Not bad for fifteen minutes of work.  
  
Hibari glared at him but there was nothing he could do and they both knew it. Gokudera felt invincible - for all of five seconds. Kusakabe suddenly poked his head in, panting. "We've discovered their hideout, Kyou-san. I've already called SWAT. The car will be waiting outside."  
  
Gokudera froze in mid-smirk and didn't move until Hibari called his name from the door. "Gokudera Hayato. You'll be accompanying us."  
  
He spun around and tried to come up with a facial expression that wouldn't reveal his shock. He ended up glowering.  
  
Gokudera hurried after Hibari, bumping into hectic FBI agents left and right. He needed to think  _fast_. He couldn't afford to have the Varia caught just yet. That would mean their entire loot would go into evidence and Gokudera would never get to see Krejcik's last will. He was so close, the thought of losing it all was almost suffocating him. He had to find a way to warn the Varia.  
  
He squeezed into the elevator with more agents than the tiny space could be trusted to hold and snuck his hand under one of the guy's jackets. He needed a cell phone and most of them kept it clipped to their belts. Sure, it wasn't the best plan in the world to send a message to Shamal from a phone registered to the FBI but that was all he had at the moment. With a bit of luck he wouldn't be found out until Tuesday. And after that everyone would hopefully be too busy celebrating the big bust.  
  
He was already beginning to type when a firm hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him back out. He had just enough time to slip the cell phone into his pocket before he was stumbling onto the corridor.  
  
"Not you," Hibari growled and beckoned him towards the other elevator, "you're coming with me."  
  
Gokudera's heart was pounding in his throat when he followed Hibari. He was too shocked to even think of a witty reply.  
  
"You're quiet," Hibari noted when the doors closed and the cabin started moving, "that's unusual."  
  
Gokudera gave a short laugh that meant to cover his insecurity but failed miserably. "Since when do you notice anything about me at all?"  
  
Hibari tugged at his tie, his gaze fixed upon their reflections in the elevator doors. "Since I met you. It's my job, in case you forgot."  
  
Gokudera's hand almost crushed the cell phone he was clutching inside his pocket. He gaped at Hibari's mirror image and felt his whole front crumble. His own reflection revealed everything he was hoping to hide. He looked too haunted, too anxious and confused. And next to his mirror twin stood Hibari, only separated by the thin gap of the elevator doors, with his unwavering stare and his incorruptible stance. Gokudera was nothing more than a walking National Geographic article to the FBI agent.  
  
That was why Hibari's gaze always lingered on him, why the agent kept him close. It was all just in order to study him, to be able to read him better. Gokudera couldn't believe that he'd ever even considered the idea of Hibari's behaviour aiming at anything else. He was simply dropping tidbits and waiting for Gokudera to react. And like a good little,  _goddamned stupid_  dog he'd picked them all up and filled Hibari's metaphorical file cabinet with useful information.  
  
He swallowed back the heavy knot that tasted too much of embarrassment and anger than he wanted to admit. His fingers curled tightly around the plastic of the cell phone, causing it to creak almost audibly. He felt betrayed and dumb and if he had been alone he would have banged his head against the wall. He deserved it for being so bloody moronic.  
  
But he had to focus. He was silently reprimanding himself, willing his attention back to his initial goal. He could be angry all he wanted once the Varia were safe - as contradictory as that sounded. Normally, their surroundings required safe-keeping. But focus was the key. It also kept him from lashing out and slamming his fist into Hibari's face.  
  
"You're doing it again." Hibari's eyes searched his in their reflections but Gokudera was looking anywhere but there.  
  
He shrugged but it wasn't as nonchalantly as it should have been. His shoulders were trembling a little and his breathing was too fast to go unnoticed. "I'm thinking."  
  
"About what?" The agent's expression darkened as if he feared that Gokudera was planning on making a run for it. But right now Gokudera's 'consultancy' was the only thing ensuring the Varia's freedom - bolting was not an option anyway.  
  
"What's it to you?" Gokudera hissed, his anger easily overpowering his meagre acting skills.  
  
Hibari arched an eyebrow but quickly settled back into his usual untouchable attitude. He didn't look at Gokudera when the elevator doors opened and he stepped out into the crowded lobby. "Depends on what you're thinking about."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Shamal often told him that he needed to work on his anger management. Which was ridiculous because his anger usually resulted in determination and Gokudera could see nothing wrong with that. That this was possibly not the best way to deal with the situation at hand was secondary at this point.  
  
"I'll show you, you fucking bastard." Gokudera mumbled as he scurried after Hibari, who was steering through the crowd of FBI agents like Moses through the Red Sea. Fortunately, Hibari was too busy ordering Kusakabe around to pay much attention to him. Gokudera's fingers flew over the keys on the cell phone in his pocket and he hoped like Hell that he didn't send Shamal gibberish.  
  
He snuck a peek at the screen and hit the 'Send' button. Apparently, he'd typed  _'Incooing fbi alrt varia'_. Well, it would have to do. He erased the message and the number and glanced around. He tried to find the agent he'd nicked the cell phone from but the lobby resembled an ant colony. He couldn't tell the men apart even if they had their names written on their foreheads, let alone spot the one he needed to return the cell phone to.  
  
"If you don't hurry up I'll have you follow us on foot," Hibari's voice managed to penetrate the excited buzz like a hot knife cutting through a piece of butter, "handcuffed to the car."  
  
Gokudera scowled at his black-haired nemesis. There was no time to find the right guy without raising suspicion. He would have to go for the next best thing. He slowed his steps just enough to cause a rather massive FBI agent to bump into him. The man snarled at him but didn't even give Gokudera a chance to apologise. He quickly hurried on - unknowing that the cell phone in his jacket wasn't his.  
  
"I'm here, I'm here."  _Asshole_ , Gokudera added silently as he brushed past Hibari and squeezed through the door. He could feel Hibari's piercing gaze on his back. But if the agent suspected anything he didn't say so. He simply indicated the familiar Mercedes parked right in front of the building and curtly instructed Gokudera to get in.  
  
Seconds later they were on their way to the Varia's hideout, which would be empty if Gokudera's luck hadn't run out yet.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Hibari wasn't a good driver - he was a goddamned  _NASCAR champion_  in disguise. Gokudera had never seen anyone drive a Mercedes like that and live to tell the tale. Once or twice he did see his life flashing before his mind's eye though.  
  
The agent seemed taut as he manoeuvred the car through the streets. Gokudera couldn't tell if it was from concentrating on the traffic or from thinking about the case. He would have loved to say that he didn't care either way but the truth was that he cared very much. If Hibari's suspicions substantiated Gokudera was as good as dead - or back in prison. It remained to be seen which would be worse.  
  
Hibari brought the Mercedes to a screeching halt about a block away from the address Kusakabe had handed out to everyone. The corner was full of officers, FBI agents and Gokudera even spotted a SWAT sharpshooter on the roof of a building not too far from their position.  
  
"Stay here." Hibari said without looking and got out of the car. It could have been Gokudera's overactive imagination but the sharp thud with which the door closed behind Hibari was a lot louder than usual.  
  
"Like Hell." Gokudera murmured and waited until Hibari had disappeared with a bunch of SWAT members. He stepped onto the pavement, avoiding the curious passers-by that were beginning to gather. Police officers were redirecting traffic and pedestrians so they wouldn't accidentally wander into any of the snipers' lines of fire.  
  
Gokudera crept along the walls and peered around the corner. He could just about see the SWAT team storming into a building - among them a very familiar, very intimidating FBI agent. Gokudera was pretty sure that it was not common SWAT policy to have FBI agents enter a building with them but he knew how convincing Hibari could be. And how useful in a situation where raw force might be required.  
  
Gokudera held his breath as more men in tactical gear headed inside.  
  
"They're not in there."  
  
Gokudera spun around and found Shamal standing right behind him, "Shamal! What the fuck are you doing here?"  
  
Shamal's expression was uncharacteristically humourless. "I'm just a spectator. Like everyone else."  
  
Gokudera grimaced. "Yeah. Whatever. So you got my message?"  
  
"Yes. Although you should work on your typing skills."  
  
"Fuck you. I was typing that blind. So they made it out in time?"  
  
Shamal frowned. "Yes. But I figure your FBI buddy won't be pleased about this."  
  
"Let me worry about him," Gokudera snarled, "and he's not my buddy."  
  
"Then you'd better make him one because he's shit to have as an enemy."  
  
"Thanks for this useless relationship advice, old man." Gokudera snorted and turned around. He craned his neck to see what was going on but it seemed like SWAT was still busy securing all the rooms. From what Gokudera could see the building had been unused for quite some time. Most windows were cracked or broken or non-existent and the door was about one breeze away from dropping out of its hinges.  
  
"I mean it, Hayato. You're playing a dangerous game here." Shamal said behind him, his tone serious enough to cause Gokudera to whirl around and poke a finger at his substitute father figure.  
  
"Do you really think I don't know that?" Gokudera hissed. "What was I supposed to do? Let them get caught? I will never get to see the last will if they land in jail. I can't afford to lose her. Not again and certainly not like this."  
  
"I know," Shamal sighed, rubbing his stubbly chin, "I'm just saying that maybe you should try to find another way. This Hibari guy could get you locked away  _for life_  if he finds out. That'll help neither you nor her."  
  
"There  _is_  no other way," Gokudera threw up his hands in exasperation, "this is the only chance I've got."  
  
"Well, then I suggest you make it count." Shamal gave him a worried look. "The Varia want to move the meeting."  
  
"What?" Gokudera yelped. "Where to? When?"  
  
"Luck is on your side this time," despite his words Shamal glowered like a man predicting the end of the world, "they want to meet on Sunday. Same time, same place. I guess they're getting anxious with this narrow escape and all."  
  
Gokudera sighed in relief. "Good. That's just two days. I think I can make that work."  
  
"Yeah. I was afraid you were going to say that." Shamal hesitated for a moment but then briefly squeezed his shoulder. "Just don't go and do anything stupid."  
  
Gokudera hated when Shamal did this. It made him realise how much the man actually cared when Gokudera usually did everything humanly possible to make it difficult to be cared for. But he couldn't bring himself to bat Shamal's hand away either. He didn't have that many emotional ties and the one with the weird one-track-minded doctor was among the few that went both ways. It would have been like cutting the safety line while dangling from a cliff.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Gokudera assured the older man, "I'll be careful. Now get the Hell out of here before-"  
  
"Gokudera Hayato? Is there a Gokudera Hayato here?" A young officer came jogging down the line of spectators.  
  
"What the fuck is it  _now_?" Gokudera rolled his eyes and turned around to identify himself.  
  
"Special agent Hibari wants to see you." The policeman waved him through the barrier and led him towards the potential Varia hideout. When Gokudera glanced back at the small crowd Shamal was gone.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera barely avoided being beheaded by a tonfa when he set foot into the backyard. The brick wall splintered like porcelain under the unyielding force of steel.  
  
"What the Hell?" Gokudera screamed, ducking under another attempt to end his life.  
  
"Stop that shit! You trying to kill me?" Gokudera stumbled backwards, bending awkwardly as Hibari aimed a blow at his stomach. He tripped over something and tumbled. His hands searched for anything to break his fall but there was nothing. He fell and within seconds Hibari was on top of him, pressing him down with one tonfa square across his chest.  
  
"Where are they?" Hibari's eyes were alight with fury. It was a rare sight. Annoyance was his default state of mind and it was a surprisingly long way from there to genuine anger. That made it even more terrifying.  
  
"I-...," Gokudera tried to breathe but the tonfa was heavy on his ribcage, "I d-don't know!"  
  
"You know," Hibari raised his other arm, the metal of his weapon gleaming menacingly, "you warned them. You know where they are."  
  
Gokudera panicked. He kicked his legs and clawed at the tonfa pinning him down. He tried to throw Hibari off balance but the agent was like a block of concrete - immovable and ready to crush him.  
  
"I don't fucking know, goddammit!" He yelled, bucking his hips in a futile effort to lift himself up. Hibari watched him struggle with an expression varying between rage and disgust, his arm still in a position to strike.  
  
Tears were welling up in Gokudera's eyes as the bruising weight of the tonfa became too much to bear. They obscured his sight but when he blinked them away he caught a flash of polished steel rushing towards him.  
  
Gokudera opened his mouth to scream but he didn't get that far. The tip of the tonfa buried itself in the meadow not even an inch from Gokudera's head.  
  
Hibari leaned down, close enough that his breath ghosted over Gokudera's face. "You're not worth it." He yanked the tonfa out of the earth and stood up before walking out of the backyard, leaving Gokudera on the ground like a dead animal.  
  
Gokudera coughed and rolled onto his side, his lungs desperately trying to cope with his renewed ability to breathe. It took a while until he could see clearly again but when he did he found Kusakabe kneeling next to him with an outstretched hand to help him up.  
  
"What did you do?" Hibari's second in command asked in bewilderment as he assisted Gokudera in sitting up against the wall.  
  
Gokudera shrugged and immediately winced when pain spread across his chest like wildfire. He wouldn't be surprised if his chest looked like a herd of elephants had stomped over it.  
  
"You must have done something," Kusakabe gestured towards someone Gokudera couldn't make out in the distance, "something really bad."  
  
"Beats me." Gokudera wheezed. It was surprisingly easy to lie if you were busy being in pain.  
  
Kusakabe's brow furrowed. "I don't know what happened but you really disappointed him."  
  
"Dis-...," Gokudera gaped at the man, "he didn't look disappointed to me."  
  
Hibari's subordinate presented him with a pitying smile, "He doesn't fight who he doesn't respect. And he missed on purpose. Otherwise you would be dead now. You must have done something to lose his respect."  
  
"I didn't know I had it in the first place," Gokudera grumbled, gently massaging his chest.  
  
"Oh, you did," Kusakabe slid his arm around Gokudera to heave him up, "you had much more than that. You managed to make him mad, after all."  
  
"What do you mean by th-," Gokudera didn't get to finish his question. A paramedic was hurrying towards them, taking Kusakabe's place by Gokudera's side. Gokudera tried to twist around to talk to the agent again but he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Why does everyone disappear on me today?"  
  
"Sorry?" The paramedic gave him a confused look.  
  
"Nothing," Gokudera clenched his teeth when a jolt of pain tore through his torso, "I'm just really screwed."


	6. Danger! Risk Of Falling

Gokudera wobbled up the stairs of his new home. It was only marginally better than the last but at least this one had rats with manners. They kept their copulating activities to hours of the day when Gokudera wasn't home.  
  
It had come as a bit of a surprise to his two-men tail but he'd simply snapped at them to go check back with headquarters if they so liked. He'd made an irritable enough impression to prevent them from asking any further questions.  
  
And now he was sitting on his marginally more comfortable bed with marginally fewer potential diseases and he was trying to wrap his mind around what had happened.  
  
He was pissed off and hurt and in pain - it didn't help that the pain covered all possible planes, including the physical one. And he felt betrayed and sad and lonely and everything he shouldn't because Hibari Kyouya's fucked-up emotional breakdown was really none of his business.  
  
Except where it absolutely was. Gokudera's self-confidence was a thin veil covering a whole lot of psychological traumata that could most probably be traced back to his father, the mother he never had and the life he’d wanted but lost. And being told that he wasn't worth shit was like being thrown a rock when he was already standing at the edge of the bridge.  
  
But Gokudera thought he was better than that. Goddammit, he  _knew_  he was better than anything Hibari thought him to be. And he was certainly in now way inferior to the notorious FBI agent. It was definitely time to set things straight.  
  
"Fuck this shit." Gokudera informed the empty room, grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the door.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
One positive aspect of having an FBI entourage was that he had his own private taxi service.  
  
"What? You can't-"  
  
"Shut up and drive," Gokudera scowled as he slid into the backseat, both FBI agents staring at him in shock.  
  
"Hey, listen pal, we're not your personal-"  
  
" _You_  listen," Gokudera leaned forward, resting his elbows on either front seat, "I'm just saving you some trouble. You can either drive me to Hibari's place or you can follow me there. Which one is it?"  
  
The agents exchanged a sceptical look but eventually turned around, muttering something about him having some goddamned big balls.  
  
Gokudera hoped they were right - he was going to need them.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
There wasn't really a plan. Mainly, because Gokudera had no idea what to expect but it turned out that the first obstacle was getting into Hibari's house.  
  
It was a neat house, the front yard was filled with rose bushes that were trimmed to the point where not even God dared to let one flower bloom out of line. Gokudera had no doubt that the backyard looked no different. Hibari's house was one of the few that stood alone, surrounded by greenery. Like a bloody island of Zen. There was a small birdhouse hanging from the roof a little to the left of the front door. It bore tiny little Japanese carvings.  
  
Funny, Gokudera hadn't put it past Hibari to live either in a palace or a bunker. This was strangely... normal. Even if the birdhouse design was debatable.  
  
Gokudera knocked on the door, waiting for a reply. He knew Hibari was home - he'd seen light coming from one of the windows - but nothing stirred.  
  
He tried again, this time a little more forceful. Still, nobody answered.  
  
"Goddammit, you fff...," Gokudera cursed inwardly and took a deep breath to calm himself, "Hibari! Come on, open up. It's me!"  
  
Given the recent incidents that was perhaps not the best thing to say in order to gain entrance. He should have introduced himself as the maid or something. Either way, the door remained firmly shut.  
  
"Hey! Hibari!" Gokudera stepped back and tried to peek into one of the windows, "I know you're in there! Open up!"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Okay," Gokudera growled, standing back and glaring at the door, "you wanna do it this way? Fine by me."  
  
"I came here to tell you that you can kiss my fucking ass!" Gokudera yelled at the top of his lungs. "You think you're so much better than me, so far above everyone else that you forget that you  _need_  me. Hell, that you need  _anybody_. But you do. And you can't treat me like a goddamned dog because I'm better than this. And you know it! You think you've got me all figured out? Well, think again, asshole! I-"  
  
The door was suddenly pushed open and in the doorway stood one Hibari Kyouya like the proverbial Valkyrie. A rather quiet Valkyrie but no less threatening.  
  
"You are disturbing the peace," he hissed, quite like an enraged cat, "stop screaming or I'll bite you dead."  
  
"Great!" Gokudera refused to lower the volume of his voice, "Do I have your attention now?"  
  
"What do you want?" Gokudera hadn't known that it was possible to make a 't' sound like a knife but Hibari did the trick rather nicely.  
  
"First of all, you gonna let me in or what?"  
  
Hibari mustered him like some kind of disgusting mould. "I don't want anything to do with worthless herbivores."  
  
"Worthless  _what_? What kind of an insult is that even? Listen," Gokudera stepped up to Hibari, waving a warning finger under the man's nose, "if you want to insult me, do it properly, you self-righteous, egomaniac, fucking bastard."  
  
Hibari continued to glower at him, blocking the doorway like a living barricade.  
  
"Do I have to keep screaming at you from out here or are you gonna let me in?"  
  
Of course, their dispute hadn't gone unnoticed - Gokudera had done his best to make sure of that. Windows were being opened and people were poking their heads out, trying to pinpoint the source of all the commotion.  
  
Gokudera had never heard Hibari curse but he was pretty certain that a few choice words were running through his head as he grudgingly stood aside to let Gokudera in.  
  
Alright, obstacle number one was taken. Now, to determine what obstacle number two actually was...  
  
"I've let you in," Hibari shut the door with an unnecessarily loud bang, "now say what you want."  
  
"I...," Gokudera searched for words but the frightening truth was that he hadn't even counted on getting this far, "I... Well... First of all, you had no right to attack me like that. And I meant every word I just said." He let out a sigh. "But in any case I'm sorry. For what happened today." He did indeed feel a little sorry for interfering with the agent's case like that. But there wasn't much he could do now.  
  
Hibari grimaced and pushed past him. "Apologies are useless."  
  
Gokudera rolled his eyes but took it as an unspoken invitation to follow the agent into the living room. Never mind that Hibari shot him an irritated look over his shoulder. The living room was another surprise, in fact. It was pristine; all clean lines, every piece of furniture had an exact spot, nothing was out of place. The whole interior of the house looked as if a Japanese hermit had gone through it. The only thing that betrayed that this place was actually lived in was a stunningly bright painting on the wall over a fireplace that had obviously never been used. It was the only piece that looked like it had a history.  
  
"Nice picture." Gokudera pointed at the painting, walking over to it. He needed time to get some order into his thoughts and talking about something that Hibari seemed to like having around appeared to be a good idea.  
  
"If you try to steal it I'll beat you dead. Now leave." Hibari busied himself in the open kitchen. He didn't quite throw things around but the way he slammed a tea cup onto the counter suggested that he was imagining Gokudera's head instead.  
  
"You do realise that this is an original, right?" Gokudera said after he'd thoroughly examined the painting. He should have been surprised but somehow it figured that Hibari would have a priceless painting hanging on the wall.  
  
"Yes. Now  _go_."  
  
"Did you know that there's a second part to it?" Gokudera continued, blatantly ignoring Hibari's darkening expression, "It's not supposed to be displayed on its own."  
  
"I like it that way." Hibari ground out.  
  
"Where's the second part?"  
  
"Destroyed in a fire," Hibari fiddled with a small wooden box, ramming it down so hard he was covering half the counter in dried leaves and flowers, "why are you  _still_  here?"  
  
Gokudera regarded the picture one last time. It was beautiful, oddly colourful but without any embellishment - it fit Hibari, especially lonely like that. Gokudera knew that its counterpart was painted in the opposite colours. It would have made for a really nice combination.  
  
He sighed and turned to fully face Hibari, who seemed considerably calmer now that the water was boiling on the stove and the faint smell of herbs was hanging in the air. "Look, I'm really sorry that I couldn't help you. Still didn’t give you the right to go at me with those tooth picks."  
  
It was only half of a lie. He just didn't say  _why_  he couldn't be of any help.  
  
Hibari looked at him, steam slowly curling upwards from the pot before him. "There is no need to beat around the bush. I know that you warned them but you're lucky that I can't prove it. I only care because it allowed them to slip through our fingers."  
  
Gokudera swallowed around the lump in his throat. He'd been so angry when he'd decided to come here but now that he was standing in Hibari's home, in his personal space, his sanctuary, he felt like he was lost at sea. Seeing Hibari out of his suit and in nothing but a pair of pants and a shirt made Gokudera rethink his original plan of dumping all his personal shit on the man. Hibari seemed a lot more delicate when he wasn't wearing his agent persona like a film of Teflon to repel the world. Without it he was neither better nor worse than Gokudera, just a little bit  _closer_  than usual.  
  
Gokudera felt like he'd seen something he wasn't supposed to see. And he felt horribly exposed. But he couldn't tell Hibari about his business with the Varia - even if he wanted to. To his own surprise the urge to just go ahead and blurt it all out was almost unbearable.  
  
"I-," Gokudera began but broke off and tried again with a tad more confidence, "I can get you to them. Really, I can. But it'll take a while. Give me two days and I'll serve up the Varia on a silver platter."  
  
"Why should I believe you?" Hibari readied two cups, which was strange since Gokudera was the only other person present. He didn't think Hibari would make him tea.  
  
"Because this time I'm not lying," Gokudera exhaled slowly. "I mean it. Two days. That's all I'm asking for."  
  
"Why two days?" Hibari took the pot from the stove and poured hot water into the cups. The room was immediately filled with the scent of jasmine and something else Gokudera couldn't quite put his finger on. But it made him feel at ease. Perhaps that was why Hibari was making tea. It obviously had a calming effect on both of them.  
  
"Because it-," Gokudera caught Hibari's warning scowl and corrected himself, "because I have to take care of something first. Okay? I swear, those two days are all I need."  
  
A cup of steaming tea was placed in front of him and Gokudera briefly wondered if Hibari was trying to poison, seduce or drug him. He strongly objected to two of these options. The third, he wasn't so sure about.  
  
Hibari slowly walked around the kitchen counter, taking tiny, deliberate sips from his tea. He came to stand mere inches away from Gokudera when he hummed quietly, as if he was giving his approval to a jury decision. "Two days. If they're not in our custody by Monday prison will be the least of your problems. Understood?"  
  
Gokudera nodded. "Two days. Sure thing."  
  
"How do you intend to find them?" Hibari inquired almost casually. It  _sounded_  like a trap. Hibari was too calm and way too close to not have some kind of ace up his sleeve. He was much like a loaded gun with a broken safety catch - one wrong move and at best you lost a toe. Gokudera didn't like to contemplate what else one might lose.  
  
He took a small step back so he was out of immediate range of a swinging tonfa. Gokudera's mind was a rollercoaster; he was watching the deadly turn come up and the brakes weren’t responding. His brain kept telling him to pay some goddamned attention but his eyes were miraculously glued to Hibari's throat and mesmerized by the way the muscles worked when he swallowed.  _Damn it_ , there was definitely something in the tea because Gokudera's body was acting as if he found his involuntary host attractive. That was just plain ridiculous. Sure, he couldn't deny that he felt a tad special when he'd discovered the whole thing with the blanket but being  _sexually_  drawn to Hibari? Please. Thinking of Hibari and sex was like having a physics degree and still believing in the man on the moon.  
  
Sadly, Gokudera didn't have a physics degree and the idea of people living on the moon had always appealed to him in a way.  
  
"I-... I have, uhm," Gokudera wet his lips and forced his gaze away from the undone buttons on Hibari's shirt, "I have some contacts that I can call."  
  
"Good," Hibari continued to revel in the taste of his tea, "there's a phone. Call them."  
  
"What? You mean  _now_?" That finally managed to drag Gokudera out of his daze.  
  
Hibari shrugged, "Why wait?"  
  
Gokudera said nothing. He was lacking appropriate arguments. 'Because that would ruin my whole plan!' probably didn't count. Instead of answering Gokudera gulped and flicked some hair out of his face to disguise his intimate encounter with nervousness.  
  
Hibari seemed like he was completely enveloped in a bubble of peace and quiet but once Gokudera looked more carefully he could see the man's fingers clutching the cup until they turned white. He had to almost be burning himself. Gokudera assumed that refusal was not the best way to prolong his life.  
  
"Alright," he threw his hands up as dramatically as he could to emphasise that this was certainly a bloody bugger and had better be appreciated. He stalked over to the phone, always keeping an eye on Hibari, "I'll see if I can reach... er, someone."  
  
Shamal was going to kill him, for sure.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
_"Doctor Shamal's office. The doct-"_  
  
"Hi, it's me, Hayato," Gokudera sat on the small chair by the phone, his eyes trained on Hibari who returned his gaze with an unreadable expression. His collar and all the places where it  _wasn't_  were still very distracting. Gokudera hoped he didn't mess up the code words.  
  
 _"What is it this time? You want me to call the president and ask for-"_  
  
"I need you to do something for me, please," Gokudera hardly ever said 'please', that alone should have tipped Shamal off, "I need you to find out where the Varia are hiding."  
  
 _"Again? Hayato, if this is a joke..."_  
  
"No, no, I just have a friend who wants to talk to them about something," Gokudera's eyes followed Hibari's slow steps as the man came up to him. He could feel his palms beginning to sweat, "Can you help me out?"  
  
 _"Can I-... Oh, wait. Wait. Is anybody listening in?"_  
  
Gokudera tried to appear unperturbed when Hibari stopped just a hand's breadth from his knees but his body just wouldn't comply. He felt heat rise to his face, making the air in the room seem stuffy and heavy.  
  
"Yep," Gokudera looked up at Hibari but it was impossible to tell if the agent suspected anything, "you could try there."  
  
 _"Oh good lord, Hayato, it's not that black-haired FBI menace, is it?"_  
  
"Yes, good idea." There was only the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice. Gokudera was fully aware of the fact that if he let his gaze drop he would have a perfect close-up view of Hibari's crotch. He wasn't sure he could cope with that right now.  
  
 _"Dio mio, Hayato, you're not calling from his phone, are you?"_  
  
"Well, if you could get back to me by tomorrow that would be great," Gokudera prayed that Shamal would finally get the hint.  
  
 _"You're in trouble, aren't you? Are you serious about this whole Varia business? You really want me to find them again?"_  
  
"No, that's alright. Thanks for your help. And give my regards to your wife." Gokudera ended the call. 'Wife' was usually short for 'Oh my god, I am so deep in shit I can't even see the sky anymore. Help!'. With any luck Shamal remembered the code too.  
  
"There," Gokudera put the phone back, "he'll make some inquiries. You happy now?"  
  
Hibari just stood there, tall as a mountain, with his fucking tea cup in his hand and a look on his face that lingered somewhere between thoughtful and 'bedroom'. Or maybe just the former since Gokudera couldn't trust his eye sight anymore.  
  
"What?" He wanted to get up but Hibari made no move to let him. He reached out and Gokudera flinched just a little. But he had nothing to worry about - not this time, at least. Hibari's fingers carefully threaded through the strands of silver hair that lined Gokudera's face. He held them as if he was testing the quality of silk specimen.  
  
"W-what exactly are you doing?" Gokudera stared at Hibari with wide eyes, amazed that this sentence actually came out in one go.  
  
"Isn't it obvious?" Hibari arched an eyebrow and Gokudera noticed for the first time that they were perfectly symmetrical. Everything about Hibari seemed symmetrical, as if he'd been designed rather than born. It made Gokudera want to strip him bare to see if he was this perfect everywhere.  
  
"No! No, it isn't!" Gokudera disentangled his hair from Hibari's grasp and jumped up, bringing a bit of distance between them and gesturing vividly while he was at it. "See? This is exactly what I mean. You-... you're weird. One minute you're kicking my ass around and the next you... you do...  _things_. Like...  _nice_  things. This cold-warm treatment isn't gonna work. It's annoying and exhausting and I refuse to be of any sort of assistance if I don't know what the fuck is going on."  
  
Hibari cocked his head and ended up resembling one of those owls that seemed to be looking straight through you and were having the time of their lives by creeping you out. "Hm. I thought I was being clear."  
  
"Well," Gokudera crossed his arms in defiance, "obviously you weren't."  
  
"Then I'll clarify myself." Hibari was considerably quicker than an owl. He had Gokudera backed up against the wall in an instant and before Gokudera could even think of a protest Hibari was kissing him. Gokudera yelped and blinked rather dumbly at the sudden overabundance of FBI agent. In a matter of seconds his entire world shrank and seemed to consist only of Hibari and the surprisingly pleasant thing he was currently doing with his tongue in Gokudera's mouth.  
  
It took Gokudera's mind a while to spot where exactly the situation had derailed. He gave a rather effeminate squeal that died somewhere between Hibari's lips and his and tried to push the agent away.  
  
"What the Hell?" Gokudera was panting when Hibari decided to allow him to get a few breaths in. The taste of jasmine lingered on his lips like abandoned flags on a battlefield. He had the distinct feeling that he was on the losing side but Gokudera was nothing if not stubborn.  
  
Hibari looked at him as if he was waiting for a particularly slow computer to boot up, "You demanded clarification. I provided."  
  
Gokudera's mouth opened and closed without a single sound making it out. And really, what was he supposed to say? He'd asked for a straight answer and he'd gotten it. It was his own fault for neglecting to specify if said answer had to be verbal. All things considered it could have been far worse, actually. Gokudera refused to picture what a negative answer might have looked like.  
  
"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Hibari raised an eyebrow, giving off the impression of a busy commuter anticipating the arrival of a bus that was two minutes late.  
  
But Gokudera's resistance wasn't beaten down yet. He leaned back, hands on his hips like a cranky fourteen-year-old. "What makes you think I even like you back, you insolent prick?"  
  
Hibari didn't reply; but he smiled. It was sharp and knowing and disarming in the same way that a SWAT team was persuasive. Quick, efficient and no regard for backtalk. The greedy kiss that shut Gokudera up right after did the rest.  
  
He was out of arguments, out of defence tactics and most of all way out of his comfort zone. But it didn't seem to matter all that much. He'd been right all along which was both the scariest and the most satisfying realisation in the world. All that was left now was to make his surrender as dignified as possible.   
  
Gokudera stopped his attempts to keep Hibari at bay and instead concentrated his efforts on bringing him closer. He tore at Hibari's shirt, clutched at his shoulders, ran his hand through the dark hair that was too soft to be real. He tugged at a few strands just to be sure and Hibari growled warningly. The sound tingled on Gokudera's lips and against his chest. He couldn't help but smile. Hibari might have resembled a living statue from afar but he was a lot smoother than expected.  
  
"Don't get me wrong-," he gasped when Hibari went from worrying his lower lip to planting hungry kisses along his jaw line, "but isn't this... sort of... illegal? I mean... technically I'm still in your custody..."  
  
Hibari stilled and Gokudera could have slapped himself silly. If this had been an actual time of war he had just torn up the peace treaty by pointing out a spelling error.   
  
"Uhm, can we just pretend I didn't say anything?" He tried because the spot where Hibari's lips had been was getting cold and he couldn't have that.  
  
"No," Hibari pulled back, his eyes as hard as ever, "you're right. You need to leave."  
  
"What?" Gokudera shrieked - something he would have been most embarrassed about if he'd been giving a flying fuck about what he sounded like. "No. Nonono.  _No!_  You can't kiss me and then throw me out!"  
  
"I'm not throwing you out," Hibari grabbed his arm and this time he was a lot less gentle, "you were leaving."  
  
"No, I'm not!" Gokudera knew he was behaving like a spoilt five-year-old refusing to leave the amusement park but he couldn't help it. He'd been feeling way too good. "What if I don't?"  
  
Hibari lazily swiped a tonfa off the cupboard on his way towards the door and casually twirled it in one hand. Gokudera gaped at him, "You wouldn't."  
  
"I'd rather not but if you insist..."  
  
Gokudera scrambled out onto the porch with a strangled curse, feeling the whiff of air as the weapon missed his head by no more than an inch. It took a lot of practice to miss at this proximity but Gokudera didn't have time to admire Hibari's skill. He whirled around and gawked at the closing door like a duck in a thunderstorm.  
  
" _What the fuck?!_ " Gokudera roared at the door but it failed to answer. He continued to stare at it in disbelief until it dawned on him that it would not open again. He blinked, trying to figure out how he'd gone from having Hibari's tongue in his mouth to standing in the front yard in just a few minutes. That had to be a new record.  
  
"Alright," Gokudera ran a shaky hand through his hair and slowly turned to face the street, "alright. Keep calm. Nothing happened."  
  
He chased away the memory of Hibari's thoroughly dishevelled hair that made him look like fresh out of bed.  
  
"Goddammit! Fuck this fucking sh-  _Ow!_ " Gokudera hopped on one foot, cradling his other. Kicking the shit out of a signpost did not help. He limped on, quietly rambling to himself in Italian and exerting the entire range of cuss words this language offered.  
  
He was a few dozen feet down the street when he noticed he was missing something. He glanced back over his shoulder and spotted the black Ford parked exactly where the two idiot agents had dropped him off. Gokudera let out a deep-drawn sigh and walked over to the car, leaning down to peer through the open passenger window, "Guys, if you're trying to be inconsp-...  _Oh, shit!_ "  
  
The entire inside of the car was splattered with blood. His two followers were drenched in red and it was still seeping out of the large slashes in their throats.  
  
"Shishishishi..."  
  
Gokudera didn't dare move. He knew that chuckle. He swallowed back the sudden knot of dread and very cautiously turned around. A young man with wild blond hair and the spookiest grin the world had ever seen was cheerily waving at him. His hand was shimmering with fresh blood.  
  
"Bel," Gokudera snarled, "what are you doing here?"  
  
Bel's grin turned a tad more devious. "Shishi... I'm not the one you need to worry about."  
  
"Then who do I need to-" The last thing Gokudera saw before the lights went out were some flashy sunglasses, a ridiculous haircut, and a fist speeding towards his face.


	7. Road Closed Ahead

Gokudera woke up with a thrumming headache and to the realisation that his wrists were bound together above his head. He shook his head to get rid of the dizziness and winced when his joints complained about the sudden movement. He was sitting on a plain concrete floor in a room that felt distinctly bigger than the portion of it that he could see. The only source of light was a lamp that had obviously seen better days - about twenty years ago.  
  
"Voooi! He's awake!" Squalo was just inches from Gokudera's ear - which meant that he was going to be deaf on his right side for the next couple of days.  
  
Gokudera grimaced and shot the long-haired Italian a disapproving glare. "Hey, Squalo."  
  
"About time you woke up!" Squalo presented him with a triumphant smile and stood up. They called him 'shark' and it might have had something to do with the sword he kept carrying around, but Gokudera was convinced that it was because of his grin. He was strangely  _pointy_  in every regard.  
  
Gokudera cast a look around and to his horror he found Xanxus lounging about in an armchair right across from him. The man was barely illuminated by the single lamp but it didn't take much to imagine the expression on his face. Gokudera could only guess as to where the rest of the Varia were. Best not to think about it too much, though.  
  
"So," Gokudera wiggled until he was sitting up straight, which also had the convenient side-effect of bringing more space between Xanxus and him, "what the fuck is this about? Couldn't wait for Sunday?"  
  
Squalo gave an eardrum-perforating laugh while Xanxus simply continued to stare at him. "Vooooi! The dimwit thinks we would have actually met with him!"  
  
Gokudera was a tad confused at that. Of course he'd thought that the Varia would meet with him. After all, he was offering something that would certainly be of interest to them. Except if...  
  
"We needed someone to keep the authorities off our backs for a while," Squalo smirked, casually positioning himself right next to Xanxus, "and you did a pretty good job, I'll give you that."  
  
Gokudera's heart sank to the bottomless pits of resignation. He was really doing a fucking excellent job at giving everybody what they wanted. He let his head fall back to rest against the rough concrete and couldn't help but give a scratchy, broken laugh. "So you knew about me all along."  
  
"Sure," Squalo shrugged, "but don't worry about your FBI buddies. They're not going to find you any time soon."  
  
He fumbled for something in his coat and then tossed the item over to Gokudera. The anklet clattered onto the floor. The little red light that usually indicated it was sending data had died down. It looked like the sad remains of a disassembled robot.  
  
"We cut it off while you were out cold," Squalo explained. He was probably thinking that Gokudera would be scared shitless now that he knew nobody was coming. And he was damned right. Depending on where the transmitter had last been active the FBI could be searching for him anywhere between here and the Himalayas. But Gokudera refused to believe that the Varia had gone through all this trouble just to kill him. So he played the only card he had left.  
  
"What a brilliant move, Einstein. Now, is there a point to any of this?"  
  
"What have you got to offer?" It wasn't Squalo's sonic-barrier-breaching voice this time. Gokudera shivered at the sound of Xanxus' deep rumble. It felt like the forebodings of an earthquake. No amount of time spent with the Varia would ever make him get used to that.  
  
Gokudera took a deep breath and headed off into the proverbial lion's den. "I know where they're keeping your birth certificate."  
  
That was the magic word. Xanxus slowly rose from his chair and walked over to Gokudera, planting one boot-clad foot firmly on Gokudera's stomach - one push and Gokudera would have to stick to a liquid diet for the rest of his life.  
  
"Where is it?" Xanxus growled, his shadow lingering on Gokudera like a mystical beast straight from the depths of Hell. The heel of Xanxus' boot was painfully digging into Gokudera's abdomen.  
  
"I can tell you," Gokudera winced but if there was one thing you didn't show around these people it was fear. They lapped it up like bloodhounds, "but I want something in return."  
  
Gokudera met Xanxus' fiery gaze head-on. All that practice with Hibari was paying off.  
  
"What do you want, scum?"  
  
"The take from the robbery," breathing was getting more and more difficult as Xanxus' foot was weighing him down, "there was a document. A last will. I want to see it."  
  
Xanxus frowned, "What's so important about that piece of garbage?"  
  
"That's none of your business." Gokudera spat but he regretted it seconds later. The massive sole of Xanxus' shoe connected with his stomach, sending Gokudera's senses spinning out of control. He spent the next few minutes coughing and trying to curl in on himself. His bound wrists prevented him from doing much more than squirming under Xanxus' heel. Not far to his left he heard Bel's spiteful laughter.  
  
"Make it my business, trash." Xanxus' expression changed but to call it a smile would have been an insult to all the smiles in the world. It was more like a death omen.  
  
"It's...," he hesitated, searching for a safe way to put it, "there's some information in there that I need."  
  
"Information about what?"  
  
"About a-," Gokudera never finished that sentence. Squalo's shout ripped through the air and suddenly the entire room drowned in chaos. Xanxus spun around, probably trying to determine how many intruders they were up against. Knives were whirling through the air like deadly hornets, throwing sparks where they recoiled from solid stone. Squalo's sword was flashing repeatedly in the dim light of the lamp, seemingly fighting nothing but shadow.  
  
There was only one person who could catch the Varia off guard like this.  
  
"H-Hibari?" Gokudera peered into the dark. He got his answer when Squalo's screams stopped abruptly and his limp body slithered into the pool of light, knocking over the lamp. Come to think of it, the crazy  _shishishi_ 's had ceased as well.  
  
Gokudera and Xanxus both stared at the tall young man stepping into the light. Strangely, neither of them was relieved to see him.  
  
"Hibari!" Gokudera exclaimed, "How did you-"  
  
"I followed you," Hibari didn't take his eyes off Xanxus, "you there. You killed two of my men."  
  
Xanxus shrugged, "And you killed two of mine. What of it?"  
  
Hibari looked down at Squalo's unmoving body and shook his head, "They're not dead. It would be bothersome if I killed any of you. Too much paperwork."  
  
Xanxus blinked in bewilderment for a moment and then burst into laughter, "Paperwork, huh? How about I give you something to report?"  
  
Gokudera stilled completely at the click of the safety catch. When he turned his head he was staring straight down the barrel of Xanxus' gun.  
  
"Please tell me you brought a gun, Hibari." Gokudera swallowed but he knew he was pleading to the wrong man. Hibari never carried any weaponry besides his beloved tonfa.  
  
"No." Hibari replied, seemingly perplexed by the mere suggestion.  
  
"When this is over we so need to have a talk about what to say in a situation like this and what to keep to yourself."  
  
"You mean if you get out of here alive," Xanxus growled, "any last words, trash?"  
  
"Yeah." Gokudera scowled, "Threatening to shoot me won't do you any good anyway."  
  
"And why's that?" Xanxus smirked, bemused.  
  
"Because he doesn't like me enough." He said testily. He didn't even have to act for that. He  _was_  miffed. For one, Hibari's Superman attitude had blown Gokudera's chances of seeing Krejcik's last will to pieces. And if that wasn't enough there was also the issue of the kissing and Gokudera's graceless exit from Hibari's house. All of it combined could hopefully be used to distract Xanxus long enough to make sure that none of them died. It was cheap and promised to end in disaster but it was all they had.  
  
Gokudera finally locked gazes with Hibari, who looked slightly confused.  
  
"I thought I had made myself perfectly clear?" Hibari mused.  
  
"You threw me out!"  
  
"I kissed you."  
  
"Yeah, and then you threw me out!"  
  
"You said it yourself, it's against the rules."  
  
"You didn't need to agree with me, for cryin' out loud!" Gokudera risked a glance at Xanxus. The Varia leader was torn between laughing his ass off and shooting the both of them.  
  
"What would you have me do then?" Hibari was apparently beginning to catch on, if the knowing glint in his eyes wasn’t a figment of Gokudera’s imagination.  
  
"I don't know," Gokudera huffed, "you could have told me it doesn't matter. Shit, you could have told me  _anything_. Anything would have been better than throwing me out of your house, dammit!"  
  
"But it would have been a lie."  
  
"So what? At least you wouldn't have-"  
  
The shot was loud enough to wake the dead. Plaster was drizzling from the ceiling onto Xanxus' raised arm, "Shut the fuck up, you two scumbags!"  
  
The second shot was accidental and only fired because the gun was knocked out of Xanxus' hand by a tonfa whirring through the air. Xanxus cursed, stumbling backwards and sporting a hand with at least one broken finger. Cheap didn't always mean ineffective.  
  
"You bastard!" Xanxus roared, his wrath sizzling around him like an aura. He was ready to charge, reaching for his second gun but Hibari was faster. He sent the man tumbling with a hit to his stomach but Xanxus was quicker to regain his composure than most opponents. He caught Hibari's bare fist in his own and forced the agent's arm into a position that practically reeked of cracked bones.  
  
That was the last Gokudera saw of them because his attention was drawn to a certain silver-haired minion who was waking from his involuntary slumber. Squalo caught sight of the fighting men and snarled, scrambling up from the floor. He grinned victoriously when he rushed forward with his sword raised to strike. He didn't count on having his kneecap relocated.  
  
Gokudera put all his disappointment and rage into that one kick. It left Squalo squirming on the ground, howling and clutching his left knee.  
  
"That's for punching me, asshole." Gokudera added triumphantly but he doubted Squalo currently gave a damn. Gokudera risked a look around but the far corners of the room were shrouded in darkness. He could hear the two opponents exchanging blows somewhere to his right. A crushing sound indicated that one of them had just left a lasting mark on the wall.  
  
While everybody was either busy crawling on the floor or fighting to the death Gokudera tried to worm his way out of his bonds. He didn't know how far behind Hibari's backup was or if he'd even bothered to call any, but somebody needed to make sure that all the bad guys stayed knocked out. And the remaining Varia members hadn't shown up yet either - which didn't mean they were not around. Gokudera prayed that they had already had an unfortunate encounter with Hibari on his way down here, but better safe than sorry.  
  
Gokudera's wrists were bound with tape and it cut into his skin as he twisted it this way and that to free himself. Eventually the plastic loosened enough for his hand to squeeze through. One quick look at Squalo assured him that the long-haired Italian was no immediate threat. Gokudera staggered up to search for Bel.   
  
He didn't need to go far.  
  
A dagger soared past him, ripping an ugly cut into the left arm of his shirt. Gokudera hissed in pain and whirled around, using his momentum to uppercut the everloving fuck out of the charging princeling. Bel stumbled away from him with an oddly happy grin on his face and hit the floor in an awkward tangle of limbs. Gokudera beamed. "Fucker. Try to laugh at th-"  
  
It was only then that Gokudera noticed the small dart sticking out of Bel's neck - and the men in tactical gear pouring in through the door. Red dots were swarming along the walls like fireflies.  
  
Kusakabe emerged from the dark and came running up to him. "Everything alright?"  
  
Gokudera snorted, a little disheartened that he wasn't the one to deliver the final blow which had knocked Bel out. "Depends on who you're referring to. Where are the others? There should be three more Varia idiots sneaking around here somewhere."  
  
The agent nodded. "We found them outside, all of them unconscious and handcuffed to each other."  
  
Gokudera tried to picture that and grinned. "Trust me when I say they deserved it."  
  
Kusakabe gave a short laugh that sounded as if he'd rather not ask. He quickly excused himself and hurried towards the other end of the room where Xanxus was still promising Hibari a slow and painful death. Hibari, as usual, said nothing and just kept on frustrating Xanxus by refusing to die in any way at all.  
  
Gokudera couldn't hide a smirk when several SWAT members were trying to drive the two men apart. Xanxus continued to thrash even as no less than five men were holding him down. Hibari only backed off when Kusakabe jumped in his way, imploring his boss to stop. Hibari was not particularly happy but he obliged, briskly striding away from the mess.  
  
The smile disappeared from Gokudera's face as Hibari walked in his direction. He was stuck in a vicious circle - one part of him was angry that Hibari had turned up so soon, another was grateful and yet another was pissed because he couldn't just  _tell_  the agent why he was upset. All in all he was basically mad at everything and nothing.  
  
He tried to avoid any potentially unpleasant conversations by turning around and pretending to be on the look-out for a medic to take care of the cut on his arm. But Hibari ignored the hint and stepped in front of him. His eyes briefly flickered to the bloodied shirt.  
  
"I'll live." Gokudera grumbled, clutching his arm and trying to sidestep the agent. Behind them they were still working to get Xanxus under control - a futile undertaking.  
  
Hibari gave him a somewhat bewildered look but didn't allow him to pass. "You're angry."  
  
"No," Gokudera glowered, "what makes you think that? I'm terrific. Never been better."  
  
"Would you rather I had let them torture you some more?" There was a tiny smile tugging at the edges of Hibari's mouth. He was not taking Gokudera seriously and nobody could blame him for it. Gokudera knew that it looked stupid to be all peeved when he'd just been saved. He probably would have reacted the same way had he not had all the facts together.  
  
Gokudera poked a blood-red finger at Hibari's chest, successfully soiling the spotless shirt. Considering that Hibari had just gone through twelve rounds of death match with Xanxus it was a miracle that his outfit was still intact. Hibari gave the word 'untouchable' a whole new meaning.  
  
"I would have been  _fine_ ," he spat, "I was seconds away from having them hand over the entire take from the robbery to me."  
  
"It looked different from my angle."  
  
"I don't c-," Gokudera stopped abruptly when a shot disturbed the air. People were suddenly scrambling around and yelling and Gokudera thought for a moment that somebody had finally had it and just shot Xanxus. But then he felt something warm and sticky trickle down his back. At first it didn't really register but after a couple of seconds his entire back was on fire with scorching pain.  
  
Gokudera stood there, his fingers slowly beginning to curl into a fist in Hibari's shirt. He couldn't remember breathing ever being that hard and he was pretty sure there was not supposed to be blood in his mouth. He barely noticed his legs giving out from under him but for some reason he didn't hit the ground. Unless the ground had recently transformed into a set of strong arms. He wasn't too sure if he was imagining that; or the irregularities in his heartbeat that was pounding in his ears.  
  
He tried to remember why he'd been so furious but he couldn't. It was like swimming through a sea of jelly, everything was terribly slow and sticky. And then it was just black and nothing moved anymore.


	8. Fragile - Handle With Care

"Ngh."  
  
"Glad to see you've decided to rejoin the living."  
  
"Gngh." Gokudera blinked and frowned at the stubbly face taking up his entire - still rather limited - vision. Shamal was definitely not the first thing he wanted to see after waking up.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Shamal was beside the bed checking something that beeped and was probably crucial to Gokudera's survival. He did not like Shamal tampering with equipment that was plugged into his body.  
  
"F'ck off."  
  
"Ah, I see the bullet didn't eradicate your charming ways." Shamal smiled and leaned against the side rail. "I guess I don't have to tell you that I told you so, right?"  
  
Gokudera scowled and looked away. Moving hurt like robbing through a sea of cactuses but at least he seemed to be alive and on the mend.  
  
"Good," Shamal was way too cheery for Gokudera's taste, "get some more sleep. I'll drop by later. As soon as I've finished discussing your case with the head nurse, of course. In detail. A lot of detail."  
  
"Get lost, pervert."  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
"Ouch! Watch it, old man!"  
  
"I can't change your bandages if you keep flinching away, Hayato."  
  
"Why are you treating me anyway? I thought you only treat girls?"  
  
Shamal stopped trying to mummify Gokudera and shrugged, "I've known you since you were a baby. You're kind of... asexual to me."  
  
"Asex-," Gokudera gaped. "Nice. Very nice. Thanks, jackass. I've always wanted to hear that."  
  
Shamal resumed his work on Gokudera's bandages. The nurses had told him that he'd been in a coma for almost two weeks. He'd spent another ten highly irritating days in the care of countless nurses and their worst nightmare, Dr. Ass-grab-Shamal. By now Gokudera was ready to blow up the entire place.  
  
Gokudera nodded towards the two FBI agents waiting outside. "Any more of them lurking around?"  
  
And if there was a hint of hope in his voice it was just the prospect of getting out of there. Really.  
  
"No," Shamal fiddled with a thick roll of tape while holding the bandage in place, "why? Were you expecting someone?"  
  
Gokudera shrugged as if the lack of black-haired, ill-tempered FBI agents didn't faze him at all. It earned him a slap across the back of his head. "Ow! What the Hell was that for?"  
  
"Don't move. So, anyone in particular you wanted to see? That special buddy of yours perhaps?"  
  
"How often do I have to tell you, he's not my buddy."  _I'm not sure what exactly he is_ , Gokudera thought gloomily. They were definitely past the buddy-stage but with all the shit Gokudera had pulled the next stage might as well be post-break-up.  
  
"Well, whatever he is, he's certainly fond of you." Shamal tugged at the bandage and smiled at his own handiwork.  
  
"He didn't even stop by to see how I was," Gokudera grumbled, "how can he be so damned fond of me?"  
  
"Because he was here the entire time you were asleep."  
  
"He...  _what?_ " The shirt he'd been trying to wrestle into slipped from his hands. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"  
  
"Because you wouldn't have been allowed to leave anyway," Shamal picked up the shirt and slung it around Gokudera's shoulders, "and I just know that you're gonna run off to see him."  
  
Gokudera snorted and crossed his arms, scraping together the last remains of his pride, "Pfff... Why should I do that? It's his fault that I didn't get to see Krejcik's last will. His fault that I got shot. If he hadn't stopped me back there I would have been long gone before Xanxus ever fired that shot. Everything's his fault."  
  
"Then I guess he was just guilt-tripping really hard when he set up camp in the room next to yours and drove the nurses insane." Shamal's gaze drifted off into the distant lands of his certainly obscene memories, "I had to do a lot of comforting during that time. It was wonderful."  
  
"I g-... Wait. He did what?"  
  
Shamal nodded. "He refused to leave until about two hours before you woke up. Seriously, this guy is unbelievable. He had all these FBI agents buzzing around the place like bees. They had to deliver files and reports and whatnot. This is a hospital, not a madhouse."  
  
Gokudera raised an eyebrow. "Then what are  _you_  doing here?"  
  
"The food's good and the nurses are gorgeous." Sometimes it was just too easy to forget that Shamal actually had a medical degree. The fact that he was a hopeless pervert and a strangely capable fence tended to distract.  
  
Gokudera rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He fidgeted, wringing the shirt in his hands. "So... why did he leave then? He could have just waited for me to wake up."  
  
Shamal shrugged. "Do I look like his therapist? I think that's something you'll need to ask him yourself."  
  
Gokudera sighed and slid into his shirt. "I'm not sure he's going to give me an answer. Ever."  
  
Shamal handed him his jacket. "Maybe start with an apology. I hear it helps."  
  
"Does that go before or after the epic explanation?"  
  
"Try before."  
  
Gokudera nibbled at his lower lip wondering if going to Hibari's place was really such a good idea. He would have felt a lot more confident if he'd had time to practice a speech - for about a century or two.  
  
"You know," Shamal said with a dramatic sigh as he guided Gokudera to the door, "I've always hoped that you would find a nice, pretty girl one day."  
  
"Shamal..."  
  
"But I guess he's close enough."  
  
"Shamal!"  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera stood in front of Hibari's door and waited. He'd been standing there for ten minutes. It wasn't as if there was nobody home - he just hadn't knocked yet.  
  
His fingers drummed on the canvas in his hand. He was still lost for words but something told him that it wouldn't get any better by spending the night on Hibari's porch. So, he simply leaned the painting against the door and turned to leave, hoping that somebody else's creativity would do the talking for him.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
Gokudera froze in mid-step and slowly turned around, eyeing Hibari. He felt like watching a seismograph, willing the needle to stay level. He braced himself for the worst though.  
  
"An apology." He finally said.  
  
Hibari lifted the canvas and examined it. He put it down again and raised an eyebrow in question.  
  
Gokudera shook his head and grimaced. "I didn't steal it and thanks for the vote of confidence, by the way. I found it in a second hand shop on the way here. It's a fake."  
  
For a moment Gokudera feared that the agent would behead him with the picture but then Hibari's expression softened almost unnoticeably. "It'll do."  
  
Gokudera nodded, although he was a little disappointed. He had hoped to get a more conclusive response out of the agent but that was obviously like panning for gold - you had to look really hard in order to notice what you had. When Hibari still made no move to invite him in he figured he'd done all he could. The big gold rush wasn't happening and so he started walking back to the FBI car waiting for him.  
  
"Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Gokudera half-turned around and gave a shrug. "Back to prison, I guess."  
  
Hibari reached for something behind the door. "What a shame. If I had known that you were so eager to get back there I wouldn't have gotten you this."  
  
Something that looked like a thin black wallet came flying towards Gokudera. He caught it and peered inside. It was an FBI ID - well, not a  _real_  FBI badge but it had the logo and everything. And, disturbingly, his picture as well. It said 'Consultant' in big black letters.  
  
"What kind of sick joke is that?" Gokudera held up the wallet.  
  
"Your status has been upgraded due to your recent," Hibari's expression turned a bit sour, " _success_  in helping to apprehend the Varia. You're now an official FBI consultant. You'll be reporting directly to the Field Director. But the anklet stays on, just so we're clear."  
  
Gokudera stared at the badge and then at Hibari. "And what exactly does that mean?"  
  
Hibari smiled this thin little smile of his that somehow managed to be even more beautiful than the painting he was holding. "Means it doesn't matter."  
  
He went back inside. The door stayed open.  
  
Gokudera looked down at the badge and weighed it in his hand. It was lighter than expected. Maybe standing on the other side of the legal line wasn't the worst that could happen. The perks certainly seemed to be worth it.   
  
He pocketed the wallet and smirked at the agents in the car. "Don't wait up for me, guys." Then he sprinted after Hibari.  
  
  


\---

  
  
  
Gokudera was gazing up at the two paintings on the wall. He was resting comfortably on top of Hibari on the couch. He could feel the agent's fingers lazily threading through his hair. They were stark naked and cooling down from God knew how many rounds of mind-blowing sex. Gokudera had lost count some time after the number on the kitchen counter. But he owed Hibari a Japanese tea set now.  
  
Hibari was completely silent safe for his slightly elevated heartbeat, but maybe he was smiling. It was hard to tell in the semi-dark of the living room but Gokudera liked to think that he was. It made addressing the nagging issue that he'd been mulling over in his head slightly easier.  
  
He shifted nervously trying to find the right words but all he could think of was the way Hibari's hands felt on his skin.  
  
Gokudera sighed and buried his face in Hibari's neck for a moment before scrambling to sit up. He couldn't run forever. "I think there's something I need to tell you."  
  
"Yes, I think you do." The air of post-orgasmic bliss was swiped away and Hibari was one step away from his usual agent-mode. Gokudera had decided that he liked the I-will-give-you-pleasure-like-you've-never-known-before mode a lot better. The problem was that Gokudera wasn't sure if he would ever get to see the latter again once they were done with this. But there was no turning back now.  
  
He took a deep breath, "I warned the Varia because I wanted to meet up with them. They stole something, a testament. And I wanted to have a look at it. But I knew that if you caught them all the documents from the heist would go into evidence and I would never get to see it."  
  
Hibari nodded. "I know."  
  
"You-," Gokudera stammered, not quite sure what to make of this. "How?"  
  
Hibari shrugged, his hand lightly tapping Gokudera's thigh, "I was standing right outside the door when you told the Varia. Do you think I'm deaf?"  
  
"Oh," Gokudera frowned, "oh... Well then... Glad we talked about it."  
  
He leaned down, moving to snuggle back up to Hibari but the agent stopped him. "Not so fast. What's in the testament that's so interesting for you?"  
  
Hibari's eyes narrowed. "It's the piano, isn't it?"  
  
Gokudera's breath hitched at the mention of it. "How did you-"  
  
"I've read it," a tiny smile crept onto Hibari's lips, "and you have a thing for musical instruments."  
  
Gokudera blushed. He studied the headrest of the couch and decidedly did not pout at all. He didn't particularly like talking about it because it made him aware of how fucked up his personal history was. It also made him hurt like somebody was pouring salt straight into his heart.  
  
Nevertheless he figured he owed it to Hibari. After all, the man had saved him not only from dying a possibly gruesome death at the hands of the Varia but also from going back to prison. Hibari had bent the rules he loved so much more than Gokudera had tried to follow them - the least he could do was to tell him  _why_.  
  
"It...," he said quietly, averting his eyes, "it belonged to my mother. She was a pianist and the piano had been in her family for decades. She taught me how to play on it when I was a kid. She used to talk about it like it was a person, a girl. She once told me that if I treated it with respect and love, like I would a girl, it would sing for me. It's the only thing that's left of her."  
  
Hibari gave him a perplexed look. "Your mother lives in Italy. And she's a housewife."  
  
Gokudera snorted, "Is that what it says in my file? That's some poor example of research, special agent."  
  
Hibari slapped his thigh.  
  
"Ow!" He rubbed the reddening skin and sighed, "That woman is not my mother. She's just my father's wife. My real mother died in a car accident that was orchestrated by my father because..."  
  
He broke off and swallowed back the suffocating anger that surged through him at the mere thought of what his father had done, "... because she was  _inconvenient_. I only learned about her long after she'd died. That's when I left home. Couldn't stand to be around that fucking bastard anymore. He killed the woman he supposedly loved and sold off her most prized possession like some cheap kind of crap at a flea market. I've been looking for her-... the piano, I mean. I've been looking for it ever since. And the last one to own it was a man called Krejcik."  
  
He left the rest of the conclusion to Hibari. The agent didn't speak for a long time and Gokudera wasn't sure how to interpret that.  
  
When the silence got on Gokudera's nerves he just went ahead and broke it with the question that had been burning on his tongue ever since Hibari had mentioned the testament. "So, you've seen Krejcik's last will, right? Did... I mean, did it say where the piano was shipped off to? Did it mention a name? Anything?"  
  
Hibari's expression darkened but Gokudera was too giddy to properly pay attention. "He left it to a small museum in his hometown in Croatia."  
  
"And?"  
  
"It never got there."  
  
Gokudera's hopes shattered like glass, leaving him in pieces. "I... I see."  
  
He didn't know what to do with himself now that the silver lining had turned into yet another disappointment in a long row of clues that had led him nowhere. Well, not exactly nowhere - Hibari's lap was certainly a nice place to be but the piano was once again out of reach.  
  
Hibari tugged him closer, presenting him with this tiny smirk that indicated he knew more than he let on. "You'll keep looking for it."  
  
Gokudera smiled sadly. "Why should I?"  
  
"Because I know you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming up next on *Heroes not Included :**
> 
> Meeting the in-laws is not what it used to be.
> 
> Three is one too many but Gokudera temporarily forgets how to count.
> 
> Swords don't pick locks. People do.
> 
> Hibari does not deal well with competition.
> 
> Peace treaties - easier with countries.


End file.
